#for some reason I imagine dust and horror are always playing cards

[peasthedumb]

Ngl Every single nightmares castle scene introduction in my daydreams be like:

*dust flipping a table because he lost a game of cards against horror *

*killer immediately sliding into frame and flirting with nightmare to annoy him, or is trying to engage the others in a pillow fight *

(Optional) *cross depressed or angry in a corner away from everyone *

*Nightmare re-regretting his life every single time he walks into the room and sees the squad while he’s just trying to walk from his bedroom to make himself another coffee *

[one-small-nightmare]

One Small Nightmare

Based on One Small Dream by @calcium-cat and my imagination. ( basically swapped except with different stuff or well interactions also I hope it’s fine to write this and also if ur reading this calcium cat I love ur one small Dream story!! Also I decided to write it here since I don’t know how to get a archive account thing )

Chapter 1

Nightmare teleported to his office, exhausted from the long day and after the battle with the star sanses. His brother tried many times to stop him from hurting AU’s and everything else that he’s done, of course, it didn’t really work. Eventually his brother gave up on that, the next battle with them though, he’ll probably be at it again. Nightmare grabbed a granola bar and ate it as he looked down at his work. Tapping his pencil on the desk, trying to think of what to write. Nothing came to mind. He let out a sigh and put down his pencil. He could continue this tomorrow, he was exhausted anyways and should probably get some sleep. He teleported to his bedroom and got into his bed, pulling up the sheets with his tentacles.

The next morning dust,killer, and cross were playing some cards while horror was in the kitchen preparing some breakfast. As nightmare passed by the three noticed him. “Good morning Nightmare!” Killer said. “Good morning..” nightmare sleepily replied, he yawned and went into the kitchen to get some coffee. That’ll probably help with getting him energized. “G’morning” Horror said as he waved to the goopy skeleton. “Good morning, Horror. What’s for breakfast?” Nightmare said as he started to brew his coffee. “I’m making some pancakes topped with fruits and eggs n bacon for breakfast. It’s almost ready.” Horror looked to the side and then looked slightly back at nightmare. “Did you sleep well? You look pretty tired.” He asked. “I slept fine, I just stayed up late with my work is all.” Nightmare said. The coffee finished brewing and he poured some into his cup, adding some sugar and milk. He then walked out of the kitchen and headed to his office. He still had some time to work before breakfast, he thought while sipping some of his coffee. He entered his office to see his paperwork all over the floor scattered around. He sighed and thought that he must’ve accidentally let it fall while getting up and didn’t notice since he was so tired. He let out a long sigh and began picking up all the papers. He finally finished picking them all up and put them on the desk, he sat down, taking another sip of his coffee. He began writing. A few minutes passed and he could smell the breakfast, horror must almost be done he thought. He took a sip of his coffee, but there was no coffee left. He also noticed that he was still pretty tired, which was a bit weird since he did just drink a whole cup of coffee. Horror then shouted “breakfast is ready!”. Nightmare teleported to the dining room and sat down. The others also arrived, sitting down and they began to eat....except they didn’t. They all were looking at nightmare with slightly worried expressions. “Why are you guys all looking at me..?” He said. “Are you sure you slept fine last night? You look even more tired.” Horror responded. “I’m fine. I think....” nightmare mumbled the last part so that it was barely heard. “Your sure..?” Cross replied. All of a sudden nightmare became extremely light headed and couldn’t think straight, he tried to respond but wasn’t able to. He could feel himself wobbling from side to side and he tried to keep himself stable. “N-nightmare?!” Killer worriedly said. Oh no, Nightmare knew that he might- Nightmare suddenly fell onto the floor his eyes starting to narrow. “NIGHTMARE!” the four shouted while rushing towards him. That was all nightmare heard and saw before he closed his eyes and passed out.

Nightmare opened his eyes to find a skeleton with yellow or golden eye lights looking down at him. “Night? Are you ok?” The skeleton said....wait that skeleton was....dream?! Nightmare quickly jolted up and looked at what seemed to be his brother. “D-Dream?” The skeleton smiled and said “yeah! Who else would it be.”

Nightmare couldn’t believe what he was seeing, he thought Dream hated him after everything happened and- nightmare looked down. He was back to...his normal self?!? “HOW AM I BACK TO NORMAL, I THOUGHT YOU HATED ME. WAIT THIS IS JUST A DREAM ISNT IT-“ “calm down night! This isn’t a dream, your not sleeping anymore. Also what do you mean by back to normal? You’ve always been like this. Also I’ve never hated you brother! I’ve always loved you and that won’t ever change!” “Dream” replied. “No no no no, this has to be a dream, it can’t be real it can’t be....this is just ALL FAKE” the last word echoed loudly and then a rumble was heard. All of a sudden a black goopy Tsunami was heading towards the tree that nightmare and “dream” were at. A goopy wave submerged “dream” and nightmare quickly attempted to climb the tree. He wasn’t as good of a climber as his brother but he should be fin- he slipped. Nightmares eyes widened as he held his breath and fell into the goopy ocean. He tried to swim up but couldn’t, he was too far down and couldn’t move for some reason. The goop was cold and dark, he could only see some light shining through until it was completely dark. He let out his breath and gasped for air but couldn’t. He was drowning in the goopy ocean that had taken his brother when all of a sudden nightmare opened his eyes and jolted up from his bed. He was breathing heavily. “Nightmare are you okay!?!?” Yelled a familiar voice. Wait, that wasn’t his brothers voice. He looked where he had heard the voice and saw horror and the other skeletons standing there, all looking at nightmare. Nightmare calmed down and sighed. “....yes...I’m fine....” he replied. “It doesn’t look fine to us. You literally passed out in the dining room and then you wake up breathing heavily out of nowhere!!” Cross shouted. Nightmare thought of what to say, he probably shouldn’t say that he had a dream or well Nightmare about his brother. “I just had a bad dream is all....” he finally replied. “Well that doesn’t explain you passing out, are you sure you actually slept well last night?!” Cross shouted again. “I’m sure!” Nightmare shouted back. Nightmare had actually slept fine last night, he wasn’t sure why he was feeling so tired. “Sigh I just don’t know why I’m so tired...” Nightmare added. “Guys maybe he needs some more negative energy.” Killer said. “We could destroy some AU’s! Come on guys let’s go!” Before nightmare could say anything they had all left. Nightmare sighed again and laid on his bed. He wondered why of all times he had a dream about, well, dream. It was more of a nightmare which he wasn’t used to since most dreams about his brother were usually happy memories except for..... when he fought the village. This was the first time he had a nightmare about his brother that wasn’t about the incident. He had a short nap and was feeling better. It must’ve been the work of the guys. He decided to get up and atleast eat something. He decided to walk since using magic might make whatever he had worsen even if he had a flow of negative energy currently which was boosting him. He went to the fridge and pulled out his plate of breakfast and boiled some water to make some chamomile and lavender tea. It usually helped him with sleeping and he did plan on taking a nap after having something to eat.

After eating his breakfast nightmare was heading back to his room when he heard a portal open. The guys were back, nightmare walked over to the living room were he saw the guys but....they were injured. “What happened?!?!” Nightmare exclaimed. “We met the star sanses while we were destroying some AU’s to help you” Killer responded. “Let me try to heal you guys-“ nightmare tried to say. “It’s fine you need to get some rest, we’ll heal our selves...” cross said. “No way, I’m going to heal you guys.” Cross and killer sighed and them and the rest of the guys let nightmare heal them. “How did the star sanses do this?!?” Nightmare asked. Dust replied “we don’t really know, they attacked us and somehow seemed stronger. Horror told us that we should go and-.....wait.....where’s horror...” everyone’s eyes widened as they looked at where the portal used to be. Horror had been left behind. “I’m going back for him” nightmare said. “You can’t, you have to rest! It’s too dangerous, we’ll handle it.” “No one leaves the castle while I’m gone, I don’t want you guys getting hurt again. It’ll be quick.” Nightmare said. Nightmare opened a portal and went through it. It closed behind him. “Good luck....” the three said.

I also don’t know why it keeps on spacing out really big like that, also go check out calcium-cat’s One Small Dream Story! It’s really good

[fgfluidity]

a response

i mean....

i saw @ragingstinkingrottengay‘s fic ‘to my attorney’ and... got inspired? (if this isn’t cool tell me btw!)

there are some direct quotes and paraphrasing

so read that first 

you don’t HAVE to to get the idea

(but i would recommend it bc it’s really good!)

You’ve been in here so, so long.

You can’t count the days— though the sun rises and sets, easily understood by the wax and wane of shadows, you don’t have any way to count them, where you are.

Some undefinable hell. No one out there would believe the horror and dread you feel.

No one comes to take the mirror down. The mirror isn’t further broken by either an outside force or your own desperate rattling, no matter the effort you put behind it, screaming and clawing at the glass as though your tears were enough to move stone.

You aren’t Orpheus.

You think you’re Eurydice.

But you called his name like that might earn you one more chance out of the Underworld.

“Damien! Damien, please— come back! You promised me! Damien!”

He— Celine— the thing in your body hasn’t come back.

He always came for you before.

He was different, then. He cared for you.

At least, you thought he did.

Late nights under stars, under dim lamps. Sweet, fresh air or paper and ink. Coffee or wine, if you were daring, if you were careful.

Something that could have happened.

Almost happened.

A clumsy press of lips, eyes shining in the dark, lying the next day when he asked what happened, bleary and hungover.

Why did you lie?

It doesn’t matter. Those people are dead and gone, by now, casualties of a night that went so terribly for everyone except—

Him.

And it isn’t a figment of your imagination, because he leaves footprints on the floor, dust swirling up from the marble. His eyes roam the foyer, looking over the rot, the decay, from what must have been years since that night.

He hasn’t aged a day.

His eyes land on the mirror.

No, on you, and you know he sees you, because he might be a narcissist but that smile isn’t smug.

He looks— pleased. No, happy.

Happy to see you.

You don’t think you have a real body anymore, but you feel like you do, and something warm blooms in the pit of your stomach.

He’s the reason you’re in here, ultimately.

You force the sensation down, out of your mind.

“My friend,” he says, and it’s been so long since the last human voice you’ve heard that it hurts, however golden he sounds. “My friend, you’re here, after all this time!”

Where else could you have gone, even if you were able?

Your friends are dead. Your family, also dead. Your career ended.

All that left was this place or death, and you were so afraid to die that you would take hell over it, simply for the chance of being rescued.

Curse your impulsive nature. Now, given the choice...

You’re still afraid to die, but it must be better than this.

“I know you probably aren’t happy with me,” he says— which is correct, if entirely misidentifying your expression. If you even have expressions. “I understand. My plans went a little... awry, that evening, but this— all of this—“

Here, he gestures, hands spreading out, as if to indicate the whole mirror.

“I never meant for this,” he continues, softly, and you see what looks like genuine pain in his eyes. “Not for you, my dear friend. You deserved so much better than this.”

Damn right, you did. 

You don’t think many people deserve this.

But you aren’t friends, and so you frown back at him.

“You do,” he replies, earnestly, and then— “Oh. Friend. I’d like to think we were, at one point. Before... everything. Remember?”

Before Mark’s marriage soured. Before it was him, alone, William and Celine off together, you and Damien trying to make things as normal as possible.

That night wasn’t your first poker night. During law school, when you weren’t burning the midnight oil with only Damien and books for company—

Mark’s really the one who taught you how to play cards. He’s the one who taught you confidence for your trials. He dragged you both out of the library and into speakeasies, into the theatre he performed in, out to dinners and breakfasts and lunches.

He was a friend.

“If— back then,” he says, and he looks away from you. “If I’d been braver, maybe, or if she hadn’t swept me up... Maybe he wouldn’t have looked at you that way. Maybe you would have seen me. If you had, if I’d managed to steal you away from him... maybe none of this would have ever happened.”

That gives you pause. Is he really implying that—

He was always softer to you than anyone else, save Celine.

He always offered to walk you somewhere, if you needed it, but you always waited behind for Damien.

He gave you a pet name, of all things— not a nickname, a pet name.

“My sunflower. Starlight,” he murmurs, and the old names feel sharp as blades. “We could have been so much happier, couldn’t we?”

Would you have?

You can’t imagine having been a celebrity’s spouse, but—

But if it meant you didn’t wind up here, and Damien and Celine were alive and the Colonel was still himself—

“I could still make you happy. Make us happy.”

His fingers just briefly brush the mirror, and you flinch back. It didn’t feel, exactly, but it was close enough. Too close.

Besides, the man that was your friend wouldn’t have done anything like this. You don’t trust him as far as you could throw him, and even in a real body, that wouldn’t be far.

His face shutters off, and you faintly feel like you might have made a mistake.

“You still care for him, don’t you?”

You want to scoff. Of all the questions—

You see his face in your mind’s eye, and something in your chest twists. You don’t stop a nod.

“So you listened to him. You would trust him, still.”

He doesn’t sound angry, as such, nor look it, and you wonder just how good at acting Mark really is.

“After what he’s done to you? She’s done? Even before they stole everything from you, used you, completely betrayed you to take your life and your body, he was toying with you.” His eyes are sharp and hot, just like his words. “I watched you follow him and watched nothing happen, even though it hurt you. That wasn’t fair, and neither is this. You expect him to come back, after they’ve gotten what they wanted?”

You would have said yes in a heartbeat, back then, when this was all fresh. It was a mistake. It was temporary. He’d come back and set you free, any day, now.

From the look of the manor, it’s been decades.

They took what they wanted from you, and left you behind.

He’s not coming back.

The hand touches the mirror, again, careful not to press too hard against the cracks. The almost-feel is back, and you don’t flinch this time.

“I came back for you,” Mark says, so softly. “I can’t save you from this, but I will always come back for you. I will spend time with you, speak with you— I’ll tell you stories, if you want. You liked my stories, once.”

You always loved a good story. Mark was good at telling them.

“I have so many I could tell you— I could even make up our own!” His voice brightens, grows faster in excitement. “Stories where— where none of this ever happened. Where it’s just you and me, happy together. Heroes, adventurers. Lovers, if... if that’s what you wanted.”

He grows a little more subdued, eyes softening and traveling down to his hand. “You must feel so alone, so trapped, but you won’t have to feel like that any more. You can be free and happy and whole, and I would never let anyone or anything hurt you, ever again. All you have to do is give the word.”

You look at his hand, as well.

It has been so, so long. You have been frozen here, alone, desperate for something that would never come.

You don’t trust Mark, but after all these years...

After everything...

You just want to feel real, again. Safe, and wanted, and alive.

He could give you that. He wants to.

Your eyes burn with what could be tears, and you lift your hand to press against his. It’s warm, even through the glass, after so long in nothing, and those tears spill over as you nod.

Mark smiles, slow but growing brighter. “You won’t regret this, my friend. I’ll make everything okay again, you’ll see. I have so many ideas, I just don’t know where to begin...”

As he details some ideas, you swear the shadows behind him deepen and warp, but... time passes quickly, sometimes, when you don’t notice.

Now, with endless stories at your disposal...

You won’t notice at all.

[stirringwinds]

I’ve always wondered how immortality actually works. Like... if their head is cut off, do they grow a new one? What happens if the body is completely destroyed (for example in a nuclear explosion)? If someone buries them alive in a random spot, are they doomed to resurrect and suffocate over and over again forever? (I can’t help but think about how horrifying the idea of being trapped/tortured must be to someone who can’t die...)

this is gonna get into body horror territory— so the usual warnings for death and gore. these are my headcanons:1. basic principle: they are immortal beings wearing meatsuits, in a manner of speaking. their souls are given vitality and tied to this world by the beliefs of humans (ripping a page out of benedict anderson’s “nations are imagined communities” here). so long as this is the case, they cannot die permanently from any injury that would be ordinarily fatal. they will always return. they can get killed temporarily, of course. making for some very eerie lazarus-like resurrections. holy, unholy, cursed? nations are terrible and sublime. 2. coming to your question about nation regeneration regarding decapitation—i like to think It Depends: on whether it’s physically possible to Reunite the Meatsuit in the most convenient manner possible. so if someone tried to bury their head a great distance from the rest of their body—well, then they’ll just reform another head. the other will rot or turn to dust (i haven’t quite decided but the whole aspect of for dust thou art™ is quite appealing, and many of them are tied to the land itself so…why not make the metaphor literal?). but i gotta admit i’m also here for some surreal, absurd horror at times: i’ve definitely drawn Yao sewing on his own head back on. so: they don’t always need to regrow their head, but it happens.3. i’ve written more about Complete Destruction here, but basically, if their mortal body is just obliterated, they can sort of respawn. this level of destruction has to be more extreme than a normal fatal injury. it’s like an extreme reset button where they’ll have to rebuild their entire body from scratch and would take longer than normal healing. and i’m playing with a rough headcanon that they can respawn back “home” instead of where they died in these circumstances. (i’ve a running joke with my friend that arthur would wake up in the muddy banks of the Thames.) still, i don’t want this to be too easy a Get Out of Jail card for them to play, so it’s extremely painful, inconvenient and disorienting to learn how to use your body again so it’s something almost none of them would ever try to trigger intentionally.4. the above point kind of links to your scenario about being buried alive or trapped somewhere. i personally go with the headcanon that at times they may be caught in stages of dying and reviving. like what happens if alfred gets adrift in the ocean during the pacific war? or arthur, well, getting lost in the arctic on an ill-fated, hubristic expedition? hmm. i personally put some limits on to how far they can be caught in situations of eternal torture/cycles of dying and reviving(also because for plot reasons admittedly—can’t have them stuck forever): beyond a certain point, because their souls are always tied to their people, and many have especially strong associations with a particular place, their souls can ‘escape’ that container (demigod-like beings after all) and they can reform elsewhere. not necessarily back home, but basically enough to get free. it’s unpleasant and also inconvenient whenever they do a total respawning, so it’s rare! this may not be a clear example but y’know, that scene of gandalf when he dies in the pit of moria in fellowship of the ring? and is then ‘sent back’ because he’s actually a kind of angelic spirit and all. so yes—kind of like that, except messier and rather more creepy for nations. their soul is immortal, but the price of incarnating in this world is a human body with all its sensations and feelings and messiness.5. this doesn’t mean that nations can’t be held in custody by others—they can. (i’m thinking of all the conquests and wars throughout history). but because nations are aware that if they push another nation’s meatsuit too far, they might get free—it also restrains their behaviour too. a sort of code amongst their kind, maybe. sometimes, of course, it’s other humans doing this—so they don’t know that. in that case, then there’s the respawning and creepy regeneration. 

[stained-glass-fragments]

A gasp of shock fell from Farona's lips as her eyes broadened, turning toward the voice she felt she dimly recognized. And there, standing near the back, was a high priest. But not just any high priest. Comical rabbit ears stuck out of a headband perched on his short, light brown hair, and even in the growing darkness of the room, he wore his token pair of sunglasses. And to top it all off, his ever-amused little smirk curled up the side of his lips.

Farona rose to her feet, suddenly feeling apprehensive as she stared back at the man. He was someone she once considered a friend and comrade, a party member, and a trusted companion. But now... "Yune Hiraze," she acknowledged softly. And despite his words, the young knight thought his casual stance leaning back against the wall suggested that he had actually been there for quite some time. She immediately flushed at the thought that he had been watching her - including her little tantrum.

He slinked away from the wall and slowly sauntered closer, his smile widening. "Embarrassed to be caught in prayer at a church? You always were an odd one, weren't you."

She gasped, a hand flying up to her face in attempt to hide her blush from view. Damn, how could he tell?! There was hardly any light in the room!

And as if reading her mind, he supplied, "I can see perfectly well in the dark, you know. It comes in handy for high priests like me to be good supporters in the deep dark bowels of Glast Heim, the Payon caves, and---well, you get the idea." He shrugged, and his smile took on a slightly more playful look as he halted just a few feet away from her.

"Farona, Farona," he mock-chided. "The way you're looking at me, it's as though you expect me to attack you."

She took a shaky step back, clutching her metallic-gloved hands together in front of her skirt. "I--I... you're here to bring me to the authorities, aren't you?" He opened his mouth as if to deny it, but she hastily cut him off with a growl. "Don't you play your dumb mind games with me anymore, Yune! You want the money they're offering, don't you? Or is there something else you would gain? It's always about you and your selfish---everything!" She threw her arms up in the air, eyes blazing in barely controlled fury.

For a moment, the smile vanished from his features, leaving a cold frown. But as if it was just something she imagined, a mere second later, the smile was back in place. And he dramatically clasped his hands over the area of his heart. "You wound me, Farona. I faithfully supported you for how long? Not to mention saving you from dreaded king Osiris when we first met... and you throw such accusations at me?"

Her gaze became frigid, making her eyes appear almost like chiseled ice. "Supported me? By abandoning Ryshun and I in the middle of a bloody battle with the Orc Lord and nearly getting us both killed? You ran away - you disappeared. I knew nothing of how to find you! I never even got the opportunity to get to know you---all you ever seemed interested in was learning everything about me when I wasn't allowed to learn a damn thing about you!" She paused to take a steady breath to calm herself, and looked away. "I don't know why you bothered to show up now. Unless you just want to mock me."

"Do you really believe that's the truth?"

There was an almost foreboding ring to his words that made her heart seem to cease beating - before it pumped wildly against her ribcage with an intensity that made it feel fit to burst at any moment. What did he mean?

She stared at him for almost a full minute before she found her voice. And even then, it was timid. "I want... to know the truth. Tell me the truth, Yune."

"The truth..." he repeated almost thoughtfully as he took another couple of steps toward her, "Is a dangerous thing. Perhaps surprising, perhaps life-changing, perhaps the key to everything..."

Farona's blue-green eyes narrowed. "I said don't start your---"

"Silence." And all it took was that one word to effectively cut her off, spoken with strength and power from the high priest that stood just a scarce few feet away from her. He always looked so cheerful and light-hearted that any amount of seriousness from him shook her to her very core. He seemed almost like a different person.

And as if on cue, the good-natured smile came back to his features. "I've actually come out tonight with the intention of telling you the truth, Farona. Yes. Telling you everything."

The anger receded from her like a balloon deflating. "Really? You will?" And just like that, her eyes lit up curiously, watching the brunette high priest with great interest.

"Now there's the cute face I remember so well," he quipped. A dust of pink flooded her cheeks. "But I imagine you have questions you want me to answer, am I right?" At her eager nod, his smile widened. "Well, go ahead, Farona. You want to know things about me, don't you? You claim you know nothing... and I'm offering you everything."

She licked her lips in preparation, wondering where to begin. There were so many things she wanted to ask about. But first and foremost...

"How... How did you find me here tonight? Was it just coincidence? I'm sure I didn't tell anyone where I was going."

"Ah, yes. That." He grinned broadly, showing a sliver of his white teeth. "Now, this might come as a bit of a surprise..."

Her eyes widened in horror. That look--that smile... "You--You can't read minds, can you?"

The high priest chuckled heartily, shaking his head back and forth. "No, no. I can't read minds. No worries about that. But yes, I certainly did know where to find you. If not mind reading, can you imagine why that would be?"

She blinked quizzically back at him. "Um, you saw me in town, maybe? I probably wasn't able to stay as hidden as I wanted to be." She mumbled the last part in mild embarrassment.

"Wrong again!" he supplied all too enthusiastically. "But you're growing tired of the guessing game, aren't you? Yes, I can tell. Well, I won't keep you in suspense any longer. I knew where you were going, because I followed you."

"But then you must have seen me in town," she argued instantly, eyebrows drawing together in confusion. "Or before I came to Prontera--maybe out in the fields by--"

"Farona, since the day I supposedly disappeared, you have never left my sight."

The lord knightress's jaw fell open as she stared back at him, dumbstruck, and disbelief etched into every crevice of her features.

"Oh, it's quite true, I assure you," he quickly added upon seeing her reaction. "Frilldora cards are incredibly handy. You don't need to be an assassin to learn that handy little cloaking skill of theirs."

It took a moment before the young woman could gather her wits about her again. And even longer before she could force her voice to speak. "You--You hid?! And you stalked me? Yune, that's not---why would you do such a thing?! We were worried about you and--"

His ever present smile never wavered. "Things didn't quite go as I planned. After all, your irritating little friend screwed up everything. He was supposed to die--and that raging idiot let you get between him and that monster. It took some quick thinking on my part to rescue you without being seen, but that bastard also still managed to survive. Pity..."

"Y-You're a priest!" she burst out frantically, hands shooting up in the air. "You save people! Not--not plot to get them killed! Father Reinfield will never let that--"

"Farona," he interrupted all too calmly. "You wanted the truth. I'm giving it to you."

She swallowed the lump in her throat, and took another few steps away from him, all too eager to put some distance between them. "I-I didn't think it would be so..."

"He was a hindrance," he continued, tone suddenly scathing. "No matter what I did, I could not get that idiot to leave your side. He was lovestruck, I'm sure." The high priest sneered at that, one of the bunny ears on his headband flopping down. "Enamoured with his little childhood friend and too damn lucky for any of my traps to succeed in removing him from the picture."

Farona's knees had started to shake as she looked back at him, trying to dismantle the so-called 'truth' he was spouting. It couldn't be true, could it? He and Ryshun got along while the three of them were traveling together. They exchanged jokes, they both teased her... and now he was saying that all along, he wanted the assassin dead? "Yune..." her voice pleaded.

"Though he did finally leave you just a few short weeks ago, didn't he? Before your accident revealed your little secret. I didn't need him dead so badly that I would go and track him down. He was more of an annoyance, than anything. And besides, without him in the way, my path to you was clear and open. All I needed was a reason for my sudden departure."

The little white ears on the side of her head flattened back. Somehow, she could tell this wasn't one of his jokes. Her voice was small as she spoke. "You followed me... for weeks. And even with him gone to find his sister... you still stayed hidden."

"Ah, I confess... you were absolutely fascinating to watch---especially on your own and without the influence of that childish baboon. I learned more from you in that time than I did with all that you willingly told me months and months ago. Ironic, isn't it?"

Her face flushed abruptly with building anger. "How dare you treat me like some object to---to STUDY. You're no better than those damn alchemis--"

"DON'T--" he interrupted with something that could only be classified as a roar. It echoed in the small chapel, bombarding her from all sides. And then he calmed, but his words, though soft and even, sounded anything but. "Don't you ever compare me to them."

"Oh, I-I..." She looked away awkwardly, her mind racing. Did that mean he didn't believe the lies those men were spreading? Was he actually saying, even indirectly, that he believed them to be as terrible as they really were? The thought made her heart swell in a strange way.

"Well, have another question for me?"

She stole a glance back at him, and noted with almost no surprise that he appeared as though his furious outburst hadn't even happened. The cheerful mask was right back in place, and now that moonlight had entered the enclosure, his features were clearer than before. And those rays of soft bluish-white light shined and reflected off of a certain accessory perched on the bridge of his nose. Nodding once, she kept her eyes rooted to the black shields guarding his gaze from her view. "...The sunglasses. You're wearing them even though it's dark in here. You wear them ALL the time... Why?"

Yune forced a laugh that didn't have even a smidgen of mirth in its depths. "You got quite a reaction from me about it once. Tell me, Farona, do you remember what happened?"

Her brows furrowed in thought. Yes, there had been that one time, about a month after they initially met. She thought him to be sleeping peacefully as his chest rose and fell in its prone position, the firelight from the campfire dancing and casting shadows along his form and the contours of his face. Her action had been impulsive, stirring from somewhere she couldn't even pin-point, but nonetheless, she had given in. Before she even knew what she was doing, the knight had reached her arm over, intending to pull the glasses off -- when with remarkable reflexes, he swiftly snatched her wrist just as her fingertips brushed the side of the solid object.

And he had warned her then that the sunglasses were not to be touched. Ever.

"You stopped me," she said. "And told me not to touch them."

His smile widened as he tip-tapped the side of his sunglasses. "Any theories about this one, Farona? You are a smart girl, after all."

She tilted her head slightly, studying his face in the light of the moon. "Well, you must have had something to hide. I thought maybe it was an injury or maybe the light was problematic to your eyes, or--" She cut off on a sharp gasp. During her vocal musing, he had reached up and removed the sunglasses. And he made no attempt to hide the scar that marred the area around his right eye.

However, even that was less shocking than the other thing he revealed with that simple gesture: His eyes were a deep, blood red. And there was something very eerie about his face as a whole that she couldn't put her finger on.

Yune smiled, stifling a throaty chuckle. "No surprise now, is it?"

That was definitely creepy, she decided. And part of her wished he would just put the sunglasses right back on. He looked far less intimidating that way.

"Tsk, tsk. Are you judging me, Farona? You of all people, I thought, would be able to understand..."

Understand. Understanding. That's what she wanted more than anything. And she felt a pang of guilt. So what if his eyes were a strange color and the pupils were slit? And the scar really didn't marr his features in any grotesque way. Who was she to judge when she was far more monstrous than he ever would be? She had their very blood running through her veins.

"I-I'm sorry," she stammered. "I was just surprised---And I--"

"I might believe that," he spoke as he took a sweeping step nearer to her. "If you could actually look at me when you say it."

She visibly flinched, and hesitantly raised her head to meet his eyes. The smile was still there. But it seemed... strained?

"Don't worry, I understand," he assured her softly. "After all, I can't expect you to like what you learn about me. I even admitted to trying to get your friend killed. I make no claims to be some sort of perfect and altruistic high priest of the clergy." She merely gave a stiff nod.

"It was a lie that brought me this far, Farona," he stated almost casually. "Just like you, I lied to everyone to get where I am. Many wondered about the sunglasses - how could they not? And all I did was tell them one thing that solved everything."

Farona was beside herself with his revelations. Yune knew the pain of having to hide something that could ruin your life. Maybe he really did understand more than she ever could have imagined. She blinked curiously back at him. "...What did you tell them?"

He raised his hands up and looked to the ceiling, as though talking to someone else situated up there. "I told them that the Gods do not need to see my eyes. They wouldn't want their devout worshipers to question those that wished to follow them on something so trivial. They know our pasts and our futures. One cannot hide from the Gods."

She stared at him, awestruck. It really sounded like something that one from the church would say and believe in. The knight opened her mouth to speak, but he stopped her by simply raising his hand.

"But there's more to the lie than that," he supplied with an almost wicked grin. She swallowed and he raised an eyebrow at her. "Really, that expression is unbecoming of you. There are no more murder attempts upon your friends involved in this explanation. I promise."

The smile he flashed her then looked genuine, but with everything she had heard about this man in the past few minutes, Farona couldn't be sure. Nonetheless, she gave a short, hesitant nod.

"I'll let you in on another well-kept secret, Farona. I don't believe in these 'Gods' at all." Her mouth fell open, but he either didn't notice or didn't care. "I desired to become a high priest for their powers and skills, not for their silly beliefs. And I wanted it badly enough that I was willing to put on an act. One that fooled everyone. And it worked flawlessly."

In that moment, he looked very proud of his achievement---his achievement of deceiving the entirety of the Prontera Church, and probably every single person that he ever met.

As quickly as the warmth of understanding flooded through, a cold blizzard blew in and froze her insides solid. "You don't really... you mean you never---all this time, you never cared about helping others or saving lives?"

She didn't want it to be true. He always seemed so happy, so cheerful---so helpful to everyone! He teased, he loved to joke, he was optimistic and... how could it be true? Was he really capable of wearing a mask that thick?

"Ah, but there we hit an important snag, my dear." She frowned at the name, but made no move to interrupt him. "You are correct in assuming that it usually meant little to me. I had bigger plans in mind. But like anything that is labeled 'absolute', there is always an exception..."

A dribble of hope seeped into her eyes. "So there was a time when you really were...?"

"Yes. There was a single exception. And she's standing right here in this very room."

[marianhellequin]

Nulogorsk.fm - 01: Pilot

[[Author's note: I'm not so great in translating into English. So dear native English-speaking readers, I'll be really very glad if you leave a comment if something’s wrong! Thank you.]]

A friendly northern town where nights are white, days are dark, sea is cold like the hearts of the ancient gods, and arctic lights in their beauty can compete with a mysterious shining, which we are all scared to even glance at.

You're listening to Nulogorsk.fm!

First of all, an important message from the municipal government.

Nulogorsk government reminds that the military community located after the nothern highway exit from A-800 is former, closed and left under the decree of the municipal government from February, 29th, 1993. Noone lives at the territory of the military community. Noone works there. There is no living or nonliving soul. The military community is abandoned, closed and sealed for eternity - they say in the decree. The municipal government reminds you: if you see servicemen without military rank insignia, they are just a phantom of your imagination. If not only you see them, it is a phantom of your collective imagination. Do not try to talk to these servicemen. Ignore these phantoms of your imagination.

It's a significant day here today in Nulogorsk - after many years of repairs, the Palace of Culture is finally re-opened. Surely, all the important citizens will come for the opening, also a short briefing will be held, as well as a concert on the occasion of opening. Concert-bill is still elaborating.I remind you that the Palace of Culture was closed for a few years due to major repairs. The reasons were leaking roof, wall cracks and stucco moldings falling down off the walls. All the rumours about some kind of a way to some kind of an abyss opened in the vaults of the Palace, that artists and workers who stayed late after the concerts heard horrifying, ghoulish howl, which was coming like from every wall and every dark corned, that on the long, dark November days all the building winced and shaked as if because of the panoptic terror - that's all of course just idle rumours, and shame on them who pass it.

Now all the repair works are finally finished, the newest sound and video equipment is already brought, and Nulogorsk cultural life is ready to play out in fresh colours!

So, now everyone's waiting for the complimentary speech from our Mayor Pavel Borovik, who will officialy cut the symbolic ribbon after this. Our Mayor's speeches are always unforgettable! We can just recall his congratulations on last New Year, when he traditionally but in his unique manner wished success, health and luck to all of us, using frozen bull-trout, his expensive shoes in the colour of sycamore and his whole vocal range of 3-5 octaves. For sure today we will all be impressed by his words.Sadly I can't be there now at this wonderful event, but who would then tell you of everything happening in the town, dear listeners?

But I'm sure our new intern Olga would help us! She's waving, you can't see it but believe me as usual. I'll send her to the place for the most precise report, she'll sure deal great with it. See you, Olya! I'll be waiting for your messages as soon as possible!

And while Olga is going to the place, a little bit about traffic.

Due to technical difficulties, the central bus station will be closed from Thursday, 7 a.m. until Sunday, 5 p.m. All the arrivals will overpass. That's what the bus station operator says.

Somewhere far away a giant lorry rips in the highways, and a small woman is driving it. The teeth of this lorry, enormous, can grind a diamond. The lorry snorts fire, and it seems like to be all made of pipes. We don't know where it's coming from. We don't know where it's going to. I don't know what it carries. They say museums explode on the way of this lorry.

A giant lorry rips in the highways far away. How far is it from us? How close? Where does it go?

The bus station operator notices that the station closing isn't connected with this message.

This was the traffic.

To other news.

This morning a group of servicemen with military rank insignia arrived to Nulogorsk. As their leader, a beautiful woman dressed in perfectly fitting field jacket with Major's stars, says, they came because of safety issues. There were no details, despite legitimate questions from the journalists, for whom a short and quick news conference was held. But still there are many questions. What happened to safety in our little, cosy, quiet town? Why now? Why Major's hairstyle is so perfect, and her eyes are looking so strikingly right into your soul?

We didn't get answers to those questions.

Last news, on-the-spot message from Olga! Our Mayor Pavel Borovik has just finished his inspiring speech. He recalled how many events took place in our Palace of Culture, how we celebrated Town Day here, New Year, Knowledge Day, Gnosis Day, Harvest Day... Oh, I remember those wonderful New Year nights! The fun that united everyone, young and old... on such nights, teenagers for the first time tried 16-kopek plombiere ice-cream and "Kaliningrad" champagne! How strongly I wanted then to come back into my childhood and feel what they were feeling: the delight of novelty, the expectancy of unpredictable future and existentialist horror of it's imminence!

By the way about imminence.

"Blacker than darkness" coffee and bake shop invites the people and visitors of the town to try something new, double cake with orange jam and candied peel! Wonderful for to go and to get out, ideal with coffee. If you order the cake and any coffee except espresso, you get vague anxiety until next morning for free! For strict vegans: coffee on soy milk, carrot cake and a feeling of grievous loss. Offer doesn't include orders to go.

Let's get back to the main topic of the day. Just now, our esteemed Mayor Pavel Borovik has officialy cut the lily-white ribbon into thousand of smallest pieces which flew away with the wind just like our young hopes and dreams. Local amateur orchestra played a solemn melody, and doors of the Palace of Culture were opened for the first visitors chaired by Palace manager, Mayor and a representative of the press service of the municipal government. As Olga says, everyone just passed the red carpet covering the entrance stairs and came into the spacious lobby decorated with flowers and flecks from the gorgeous crystal chandelier. The orchestra refused to come in, saying it can make them go out of tune, but as Olga says, their eyes were suspiciously shifty. I wonder, what's this all about? Sadly, I don't have music education, so I even can't suggest!

In the same way, I can't suggest why our humble radio station is interesting for the servicemen with military rank insignia, but I can assure that I was really glad to see Major Andreeva with her perfect hairstyle, expressive eyes and even more expressive body language within our walls. I asked if I could help somehow or buy her a cup of coffee with orange double cake this evening, but seems like Major didn't pay due attention to my words. I think their packed and tight schedule doesn't let them such freedom as coffee. Though, orange double pie...

Anyway, Major Andreeva and her crew were interested in our humble sound equipment and my desk, and also in our regular technician Alexander, which, at the sight of visitors, made a loud hiss, blended into surroundings and quickly left the studio by draining into the sewer system.

And now, the weather.

[Frank Pourcel "Manchester et Liverpool" playing in the background]

It was a tiny cupboard of a room about six paces in length. It had a poverty-stricken appearance with its dusty yellow paper peeling off the walls, and it was so low-pitched that a man of more than average height was ill at ease in it and felt every moment that he would knock his head against the ceiling.The furniture was in keeping with the room: there were three old chairs, rather rickety; a painted table in the corner on which lay a few manuscripts and books; the dust that lay thick upon them showed that they had been long untouched. A big clumsy sofa occupied almost the whole of one wall and half the floor space of the room; it was once covered with chintz, but was now in rags and served Raskolnikov as a bed. Often he went to sleep on it, as he was, without undressing, without sheets, wrapped in his old student's overcoat, with his head on one little pillow, under which he heaped up all the linen he had, clean and dirty, by way of a bolster. A little table stood in front of the sofa.It would have been difficult to sink to a lower ebb of disorder, but to Raskolnikov in his present state of mind this was positively agreeable. He had got completely away from everyone, like a tortoise in its shell, and even the sight of a servant girl who had to wait upon him and looked sometimes into his room made him writhe with nervous irritation. He was in the condition that overtakes some monomaniacs entirely concentrated upon one thing.

A message for car owners. Petrol station number two informs that since tomorrow it will be impossible to pay with deadheads, body parts, saplings and karma. Use cash and credit cards, loyalty points and your immortal soul.

Olga who's on scene tells me that the first visitors of renewed Palace of Culture just walked into the main music hall. She says that the very first step into the large wooden doors made her heart tremble with inexplicable fear of the abyss of the existence. Mayor Pavel Borovik is determined as always.Seems like not everything is ready for the festive program in the music hall. The orchestra pit is empty and has the form of the sinkhole into the primeval abyss. Splendid velvet curtain isn't as determined as the Mayor and in every way blocks artists' attempts to sneak onto the stage and thereby save themselves from something which makes ghoulish... one moment, looks like Olga gives some details... Yes, thanks, Olya. Save themselves from something which makes spine-tingling, paralysing, dreadful howl. We'll make a pause for a message from our sponsor while I'm clarifying the situation with my colleague, stay tuned.

Everything for home and garden in the "Bad Seed" shop! New arrivals of strings, ropes, strands, cables, and also chains made of women's beard and noise of cats' steps! Never out of stock: seeds, sprouts, fertilizers, everything most needed for your homesteading or window greenhouse. In the housewares - new bed-linen arrivals. By popular demand, we returned duvet covers with chase nightmares effect, pillow cases with the paranoid thoughts aroma and sheets spawning invisible worms. Double discount with your loyalty card after sunset on Saturdays, come for shopping to "Bad Seed"!

An important message from the municipal government.Right now the press service of the municipal government informed about Mayor's decree regarding the Nulogorsk Palace of Culture. Due to the decree, Palace of Culture is closed for indefinite term until all the small defects caused by face-lift will be eliminated. Citizens are asked not to come to the building closer than 20 meters, and to cover minors' eyes while passing by the Palace.

The press service pointed out that it isn't connected with an echo of inhuman howl coming from the nailed up windows of the Palace, ghoulish and spine-tingling. With regard to all these cases of revealed breaches, an examination will be held by an independent commission consisting of active concerned citizens, mediums, shaman and Father Evgeny of the Holy Virgin Protection church.

All the planned events are moved to Youth Activity Center and local drama theatre.

Small announcement.

Internship opportunity is opened at the Nulogorsk town radiostation! It's a chance to get invaluable experience, try yourself as a real reporter, and for sure, make a great contribution into the town's public life! We're waiting for your calls, just dial ten zeros on any telephone set or whisper into your mobile phone that you want to become our intern, and we'll immediately contact you! Good luck!

That's the end of our programme for today, but not of this day. A clear, moonlit evening is waiting for the town, and a clear, disturbing night. Don't forget to check if you still have some salt on your cill and if you turned off your kettle. And now, I say goodbye to you.

Until we meet again, Nulogorsk, until we meet again.

Proverb of the day: You are what you eat. You have to revise your vegeterianism ideas if you want to be a human.

[kainablue]

LECTURE ME - Moonstruck (part 1)

[Chain Reaction]  [Distracted]  [A Quick Smoke]  [Into the Wild]  [Heavy Rain (part 1)]  [Heavy Rain (part 2)]

-

Here is the first part of a wlw lemon story with our two thirsty students Filipa and Danielle. Proceed with caution - very slippery 😉 Enjoy 🍷

Filipa

My room is at the end of a long hallway. There are only two small, round windows and four lights illuminating six bedroom doors. One window is installed at the top of the stairs. Even when you climb all the way up, you still have to lift your chin high towards the ceiling to see through it. That submissive action reminds me of church and how pious people (or tourists) stare at stained glass behind an altar. Aside from overseeing your ascension (physical, not spiritual), this round window reveals you the sky. That is, it would, if it hadn't been filthy from years of neglect and bird excrement.

As I pass next to five doors, my every step tortures the old floorboards and they squeal under my heel. The previous tenants of Saint Hildegard’s wing found a pathway of newer wooden slats that are strong enough to withstand the rule-breaking  students sneaking around. There is even a secret map drawn under every sink in all six bathrooms.

Magnolia is the name of the first room, the delicate name carved in a wooden plaque, barely visible. Celandine is the name of the second one. The third wooden plaque is gone, replaced with a metal one - Marigold is the name engraved so we call the three girls living there the Golden Maris. Fourth door’s name is Begonia, the fifth Hyacinth and the sixth door leading to my room is Iris.

I look through the second round window at the end of the hall. A crack splits its lower half, slicing the campus like an earthquake rupture. This high up I can see beyond the campus grounds and observe the woods and mountains surrounding the Academy. Not at this time of the night, though. The world I’m seeing right now is black and white horror scenery below abysmal sky powdered with stars.

As long as I attend the Academy, I’ll live in this attic intended for the poorest female students whose parents couldn’t afford to book a room in a newer wing. But I love it. I love this smell of dust, wood and feathered mattresses. I love the ethereal touch of dead Studentinnen still sentimentally roaming this hallway. Their hands and cheeks are always dirtied with ink.

Even the locks are old and paired with heavy skeleton keys with drafty keyholes. I’ve spent a significant amount of time peeking inside other rooms feeling a lot like Alice catching a glimpse of Wonderland. Let’s just say that Golden Maris aren’t so golden after the sun sets.

I unlock the door and enter. It is fairly dark, which is not unusual, but never this much. There are only three candles lit around Dani’s bed and my roommate is sitting surrounded by her tarot cards. I do not share her interest, but I respect it.

“Sorry for interrupting. Should I come back later?”

Her head snaps up. “No, no. It’s not important.”

Her long wavy hair is pulled into a ponytail. I’m amazed how lovely she looks in a plain short sleeve t-shirt and a pair of cotton shorts. She looks good in anything, really. Even though our stuffy attic room is warm, her shins are covered with pink leg warmers. Dani does that purely for the aesthetics. She stretches her back, lifting her arms high up, and revealing her soft tummy like a cute kitty cat.

“You are late again,” she says, “It’s almost midnight.”

I let my heavy bag fall to the floor with a low thump. My shoulder is killing me. “You know I have to.”

“I know,” she sighs. Dani stands up and gets close to me. “Would you like a shower?"

"Oh? I smell that bad?"

"No," she giggles. She places herself behind me and hugs me tightly around my chest, placing a kiss on my cheek. "I meant to say: would you like a shower with me?"

She doesn't wait for an answer; her hands are already unbuttoning my blouse. As soon as there is an opening, her fingers slide underneath my clothes, aiming straight for my breast. My skin is getting warmer as her lips press moist marks onto it. The gentle touch of her hand is making the hairs on the back of my neck stand up, sending a delightful chill down my spine.

Dani’s fingertips find my nipple and they brush against it, as if playing harp strings made of nerves. An electric jolt passes from my nipple to my pussy. I have to press her hand against my chest and stop her movements, because that kind of fondle is too much to bear at this point. With her other hand, she moves my hair away so that she could bite my neck with more ease. She’s not really gentle - her love will leave marks - but I allow her to savor my skin.

“Filipa,” she whispers, “Let’s take a shower together.”

“Did Aoife move already?”

“Yes. We are alone.” She steps in front of me and removes my blouse completely. She bites her rosy lower lip. “Let me undress you.”

I am tired but… how could I refuse? How could I say no to those hungry eyes, to that sweet face, to that warm, soft body? How could I say no to fucking her until she screams my name and melts into a shivering, mindless doll? Just imagining Dani exhausted and spent makes me overwhelmingly horny.

I nod and a grin, charming and ominous at the same time, lights her face. She gets to her knees and takes off my skirt and socks first, planting pecks of adoration along my thighs and shins. She helps me take off my camisole top and, finally, careful as if she’s performing surgery, removes my panties. Dani crawls closer to me, places her hands on my hips and kisses the center of my lust.

My temperature soars as the pleasure spreads throughout my entire body, pulse by pulse. Every time her lips touch my tissue, I open up more and more, and soon my arousal juices are dripping down my thighs. Dani sticks her tongue out and glides it along my slit - very slowly. Tip of Dani’s tongue touches my clit and she takes it into her mouth. She purrs. Red flashes before my eyes.

“Ah!” It feels so good! I grab her hair and press her firmly against my heat. Dani happily hums as she laps every drop she finds.

“So thirsty,” I coo as I stroke her hair. “We both are.” If possible, I prefer to finish last. And I always like to spice things up.

“Come here,” I say as I take her hand and pull her to her feet.

She looks at me, her eyes lit from excitement, a wide grin splitting her face.

I take her to the bed that used to belong to our third roommate. And to all those third roommates that used to live here before running away.

“Here?” Dani seems surprised. “Why here?”

“Why not? Look at the moon. We will see each other in pure natural light.”

The bed is located next to a wall opposite from a roof window. Anyone who ever slept there, hated it. “It is uncomfortable and I can’t fall asleep for a very long time,” was the most common complaint. During the day, the sun rays never even brush the mattress. But for some reason the full moon illuminates the entire bed all night long. After just one night, every girl would demand a transfer to another room. Yesterday was the first day of full moon, and Aoife already moved out.

“They say it’s cursed”, Dani doesn’t sound worried. In fact, she seems even more aroused. My darling roomie likes to play with the occult and doesn’t falter when presented with a challenge.

She sits on the cursed bed, eyeing my naked figure eagerly.

I lean toward her and whisper: “If we commit sin on a cursed bed, during a full moon, exactly at midnight, just imagine how impressed the Devil will be when we finally meet him.”

Do you enjoy my content? Then help me fuel my creativity with a cup of delicious coffee! ☕

[purplesurveys]

378

For a change. I love Internet people for never running out of survey ideas.

Just say what you think of (doesn't have to be one-word answers) when I mention these. Quick, simple, just for fun. Curtain: I remember a story JM told us of when he nearly burned his house down when he was younger - he was flying paper airplanes but not without lighting the tips on fire. One of the planes landed on the curtain and I think it burned that particular room pretty bad or something. Door: I have a door to my right at the moment. It’s brown and I know my dog is waiting outside because I can hear his paws. Shoe: We went shoe hunting yesterday for Joacky, because he wanted a pair of the Nike Cortez. It’s widely popular in the PH right now so even though we visited like 7 shoe stores yesterday, we weren’t able to find one in the color that he likes. Pants: I finally got a pair of mom jeans yesterday and I can’t wait to wear it for school. I’m tired of wearing the same bottoms. Wig: I attended a workshop a few months ago where the speaker disclosed that she has leukemia, and she took off the wig she had been wearing the whole time to show us her head. I also remember the RuPaul Stans part of Twitter because they say ‘wig’ all the time...

Makeup: Kate made me her subject last Thursday and she played with my face and put makeup on it. Ended up feeling really pretty because she did a pretty awesome job. Instagram: I snubbed Instagram for the longest time but thought that a ‘one-pic-for-every-day-of-the-year’ dump account wouldn’t hurt, so I made one of those for 2019. My photography skills are absolutely nowhere to be found, and my gallery is super haphazard, but I really want to make an effort to store memories this year. YouTube: Hmm first thing I thought of was PewDiePie. I subscribed to the dude when he had like 60,000 subscribers eight years ago and only had a couple of Amnesia montages up. I always feel like a proud momma/early bird whenever I remember how far and how big he’s gotten since. Life: Exhaustion, mainly. It’s gonna start snowballing by next year when I graduate. It’ll be nonstop from there - facing the prospect of coming out to my parents, graduating, getting a job, getting my first credit card, moving out, paying bills...it’s all very exhausting, exhilarating, exciting, and overwhelming to think about. Chili: Gabie and I had Japanese for early dinner last week, and I was a little weirded out by the restaurant because each seat had a red chili pepper on the placemat? I’m talking every damn seat in the place??? Idk if it’s some sort of good luck charm for the owners but it made things very slightly unsettling hahaha. Cherry: There was a WWE Diva named Cherry like ten years ago who had the gimmick of a 50′s chick, I think...I was never quite sure what her character was supposed to be, but she had roller-skates every time she went to the ring and would sometimes wear outfits with polka dots so I thought she was pretty cute.   Neil: Armstrong. Haha I was going through Reddit awhile ago when I saw a video of Buzz Aldrin punch a dude who went up to him and said that the moon landing was a hoax. Not exactly Neil Armstrong but still a good story. Drive: I like watching car chases. It’s almost...therapeutic when the suspect crashes or loses control of his car and finally gets caught. Murder: I never got into How To Get Away With Murder. It’s too fast-paced for my life. I feel like I’m the only person who doesn’t understand legal concepts because so many people are able to catch up with this show even if Viola Davis speaks a thousand words a minute and they’re all really deep words??? Idk HAHAHA. I watched like two episodes and felt super dumb after. Ice cream: OMG I hate a la mode desserts. I’d eat anything, but I wouldn’t eat two separate things with different textures. Get your ice cream away from my brownie. Water: I can’t wait to go back to the beach. Hard: Hammer? It was the first image to pop up in my head. Anne: Harry Styles’ mom is named Anne hahaha the Directioner in me jumped out, sorry not sorry. Cow: There’s this video that went viral a few months ago of a girl who was playing the accordion; all of a sudden this adorable herd of like 15 cows come running up to her and just intently watch the kid. Wholesome af. Frog: Frog legs are served in some Philippine provinces. Tastes like chicken. Cheese: My lactose intolerant ass will grate half a block of cheese (exaggeration, but you get the point) for my spaghetti. That’s the only way to enjoy pasta. Bowl: Can’t really think of anything except that bowl cuts look so cute on babies hahaha. Television: Is something I never use nowadays unless I’m staying over at a hotel. Other than that, I cannot tell you the last time I held a TV remote control to change the channel or something. Skull: There’s an episode of Friends where Phoebe brings home a skull and nonchalantly sets it on the table where Monica, Rachel, and Chandler were hanging out. Chandler goes, “Pheebs...skull?” Phoebe says, “Yeah, it’s my mom’s,” and Rachel shrieks until Phoebe clarifies that her mom owned the skull, and that the skull wasn’t of her mom. Underrated segment. Rachel’s mini-meltdown was hilarious. Seasons: I had to watch Rent for film class several months ago. Terrible movie. Cemented my dislike for musicals. This is what I remembered because afaik this is the musical that has the minutes song. Language: I can speak two and can understand some archaic/modern Spanish because they conquered us for 300 years and subsequently ruined my country. Trump: McDonald’s. An international embarrassment. Chocolate: We found this AMAZING Chocnut spread at the mall yesterday. I had my initial doubts - I thought it was gonna taste like a cheap Nutella rip-off. But it tastes exactly like Chocnut, just in the most perfect spread-y form. I plan to finish the entire jar just with a spoon. Stove: I’m terribly afraid of using any and every kitchen equipment because I have a big fear of setting the house on fire. I only ever use the stove when I’m deathly hungry and I have to make something by myself. Toy: My family recently went to a kid’s birthday party that had giveaway bags with toys inside, but seeing as we’re all teenagers now who had no use for it, it was earning dust in the house. Now, the Philippines is abound with street children so when we went out yesterday, my mom gave the bag to a couple of kids who were knocking on our car. I know I’m not supposed to romanticize the situation, but they had the biggest smiles when they realized what they got and I saw them playing merrily at the side of the street and even invited some other kids to join in. Again, not glamorizing it - I’m just happy they were happy. Video: I could never run out of things to watch on YouTube. It’s one of my favorite websites, especially when bouts of depression have to happen. Kiss: It started out with a kiss, how did it end up like this? It was only a kiss, IT WAS ONLY A KISS. Glass: The glass section of department stores always creeped me out. One wrong move and you can knock a whole shelf down, and the ‘You break it you pay for it’ signs all over the area don’t help at all. Light: Light and queen come together in this survey and all I remember is Lightning McQueen. Queen: ^ Moon: Breakfast at Tiffany’s. Moon river, wider than a mile, I’m crossing you in style some day.  Blue: My organization’s color is blue, so I have a soft spot for blue. Cream: I like soups that are creamy. I say this because my sister had ramen yesterday and it was so oily and salty and fatty and creamy and ugh I loved it. Dead: The Misfits. They’re more horror than death, but still. Purple: My great-grandma loved the color purple and I remember when her house used to be peppered in purple stuff. All her dresses were purple. I’m fairly sure it was the reason why it was my favorite color as a kid. Lace: Underwear, hahaha. Cardboard: Gabie was munching on sunflower seeds when I picked her up last week. I’ve never tried those, so I asked for some and I said it tasted like cardboard. I’ve never eaten cardboard but I would imagine that that’s what it tastes like. Elephant: Majestic. Deserves to be saved and properly cared for. Harry: One of my fave members of the royal family. He’s so precious. Leather: Is bad. Paisley: Isn’t there a country singer with this name? Italy: Pasta and stuff. Joey Tribbiani. Immature: I saw the gun girl Kaitlin-something on Twitter because she got viral again for a dumb-ass tweet she made. She posted pics of herself in the snow and tweeted “Look at all this global warming,” like seriously America??? Wtf do they teach y’all in your schools?????? Crime: Raisins in cookies. Angel: I had a friend named Angel - talked about her a lot in old surveys. She migrated to Canada when we were 12 and I haven’t seen her since. We do follow each other on Twitter but all she tweets about is K-pop so I had to put her on mute. Great memories with her. Boil: When I read this tweet aloud in my head, what I did think of was Charles Boyle from B99. Key: Key lime pie. Never tried it, but I’m always down to try anything. Sacrifice: The Catholic schoolgirl in me remembers the crucifixion because textbooks and teachers would overuse the phrase, “Jesus sacrificed his life for our sins” or “God sacrificed his son to save the world,” and all those cheesy lines. It’s as though the Bible’s favorite word is ‘sacrifice.’ Larry: Punk and AJ’s dog is named Larry Talbot. Dog: ^ Psychology: I took one psych elective last semester, but the prof was average at best so it didn’t really win over the course as a whole to me. Psychology was one of my ‘what-if’ courses so at the start, I was excited about taking it - but the class that I had was just so boring and the prof gave tests that were way too hard for otherwise fairly easy topics, so I quickly ran out of enthusiasm for the class. Rag: I hate touching rags. Especially wet ones UGH. Sun: Hate it, unless I’m at the beach. Lips: My friends dragged me to the makeup section of the department store last week and there were rows upon rows of lipstick testers. As someone who’s never purposely browsed for makeup, I ended up swatching like 20 shades on my wrist and looked like a five year old who doodled all over her whole left arm. Cage: The UFC ring, because it looks like a cage. Alarm: I had/have several alarms set on my phone throughout today to tell me to start working on various deliverables. For example, I had an 8 AM alarm to work on my J 196 paper; then from 8:30 AM I had an alarm to compose letters that I needed to write as my org’s secretary; then at around 10 AM, my alarm was for finishing up my readings for Kas 154 (short for kasaysayan, which means history). Official: I have a batchmate from high school who just got engaged...she was honestly one of the weirder ones back then so as much as I didn’t want to judge, it was hard to take it seriously at first, but it’s whatevs. I have no business in her life and I’m happy she’s happy. King: I finished my history readings this morning and there were so many mentions of kings. Lost: That show. The general consensus is that they ended the show crappily, but other than that I know nothing about it. Dating: There was once a dude who joined a dating show. Ended up being a serial killer. I forgot his name though. Balm: I was at a Korean store yesterday and saw an array of lip balms and glosses. I was never much of a makeup girl but the collection they had was just so cute, it made me think if I should start investing in makeup as well hah. Tomato: Ketchup is my second least favorite condiment after mustard. Game: Hmmm I downloaded a bunch of new game apps on my phone because I recently realized that I’m so boring??? and I only have social media on my phone??? I got ten new apps to make my phone more alive haha. Lotion: Is slimy, but smells nice and makes my skin smooth and look better. I got two hand creams for Christmas last year and it was then that I knew I was getting older because I was genuinely excited to try them both out. Expensive: Everything is. Powder: Reminds me of babies. The smell calms me down so well. Cross: I was shopping for clip-on earrings yesterday and there were several designs with crosses on them, which just reminded me of Christianity and it kinda peeved me for like 3 minutes lol. History: My favorite subject. I’ve never been so excited to be dumped on with such a thick stack of readings until this semester. Sex: Haven’t had it in a bit, too busy. Rainbow: We watched a film called Rainbow’s Sunset, which was really promising because it told a story about two men, both very old, and are lovers. In a traditional, conservative, poisonously Catholic country such as the PH, it’s a very bold move to produce a feature film that tackled such a horrible, taboo, horrifying thing (please note the sarcasm/mockery). We didn’t escape the guffaws and the loud ew’s whenever the two leads would kiss, which was sad. 

Anyway that’s not my point and what I really want to say is that the film was ultimately terrible, it was terribly-executed and it portrayed gay men in such a cheesy manner which in the long run, probably contributes to the continuing negative image of LGBT people in the Philippines. Gab, the bigger film buff between the two of us, felt so offended by how bad the movie turned out to be lol. Bay: Bayley, from WWE. She was a huge star like 3 years ago, but I think the bookers ultimately fucked her character up and now she’s stale. I feel so bad. Seth: Seth Rollins, also from WWE. Also very attractive. Pepper: I had okonomiyaki for lunch yesterday and there was like a thicker chunk of pepper that made it to my plate. Didn’t particularly enjoy that bite. Necrophile: Katie Vick. Google it to believe it. Wrestling is fucking dumb. Gravel: Funnily enough I do have a memory for gravel. Akeelah and the Bee was one of my favorite movies growing up; I watched it so many times that I had chunks of dialogue memorized at one point. One of the first scenes had Akeelah joining her school’s spelling bee, and one of the kids spelled grovel as g-r-a-v-e-l. He couldn’t understand why he got it wrong so the judge had to tell him that the word ‘grovel’ actually exists and what it means. Deep: I had a mental picture of the ocean when I read this word, so there’s that. Stephen: Hawking. Bucket: Chum Bucket. Hahaha Spongebob forever. England: Rugby? Grown: I always use the term ‘grown-ass’ haha. Spell: Spelling was one of my favorite activities in grade school and I would always score the highest in spelling exams. Kind of led me to my favorite job of proofreading/copyediting, really. Bark: My dog barked at nothing for five whole minutes a couple of days ago and it was hilarious. I shot two minutes of it. Long: Trees? Fan: Pamaypay, or hand fans in English.

Australia: First things that came to mind were the Sydney Opera House and Vegemite. Iron: Gabie’s nose bled last week. It wouldn’t stop flowing out of her nostrils and it smelled like rust for a good 15 minutes while she was trying to wash all the blood off, so it didn’t exactly help my case as someone who’s squeamish to death at the sight of blood. Melt: Chocolate. Beanie: Too warm for this country’s climate. Wax: Candles. Vigils. Burning your finger. Staying up all night to pray. Catholic school. Disease: Zombies. Resident Evil. Cannibal: The band Cannibal Corpse. Tried to get into them because Punk listened to them but it was too heavy for me. Flight: Airplanes, flights, vacations, away from everyone, nothing to worry about, good food, fighting with my siblings for the window seats. Porn: People be having weird fetishes sometimes. The thumbnails I see on websites...some of y’all crazy. Pot: I thought about how college life is so crazy. People would sell brownies or cookies with weed in them IN SCHOOL, meanwhile I still don’t even know if weed and pot are the same or if they’re two different things ohmygod HAHAHAHA I’m so sheltered wow I’m hopeless?????? Style: Taylor Swift and that subtle shade to Harry. People were shookened five years ago. Floss: Pork floss is really good. Star: There was a local celebrity who recently tweeted a pic, supposedly of a tiny tiny star that was beside the moon at like 5 AM, and she was asking what it was. Someone replied that it was Venus and explained what she just saw for her. Super cool. Nate: I don’t know anyone named Nate. I DID, however, remember the Naked Brothers Band. The older brother is named Nat, so it’s close enough. Soft: Pillows are soft. Orange: Hayley Williams’ hair 11 years ago. Witch: Philippine superstitions and how crazy and obsessive Filipinos can get. My mom, one of the most rational, no-nonsense people I know, scolds me every time I mock witchcraft or what we call ‘kulam’ cos she believes something will happen to me if I do. I’m all for honoring our mythology and traditions but sheesh, not to the obsessive extent. Mound: Ants. Root: Gabie used to watch this show where she shipped two girls named Root and Shaw. Oil: Massages. Hot: Deserts. Disc: Childhood, blowing on it to make it work, double-sided discs for longer movies, if a disc had scratches expect it to die soon. Soil: Plants. Planting trees. Muddy. Ugly: That scene in Spongebo where Patrick tells the story of the ugly barnacle. “Once there was an ugly barnacle. He was so ugly that everyone died. The end,” which didn’t help Spongebob who at the time was feeling super ugly hahahahaha. Sugar: Maroon 5. Also, my grandma used one particular jar for sugar throughout my entire childhood. It’s plastic, it’s clear, and it came with a red-orange lid. I’d often eat sugar on its own so I saw that jar quite a bit and it gives me a sense of nostalgia. I’m not so sure if that’s still the jar being used in the old house. Bone: Ribs :( Been craving for some. Sigh: Air??? I don’t know. Throne: Game of Thrones. I had to watch a 26-minute documentary of a GoT production for my broadcast management class. It’s insanely hard. So much respect to everyone involved in its prod. Calendar: I’m secretary for my org, which means that I always have to update everyone about our calendar of events. Carpet: Fancy. Flesh: The Walking Dead. Cement: Dangerous. Vow: The movie with Rachel McAdams and Channing Tatum. One of my guiltier pleasures. Sweet: Desserts. And now I’m hungry.

[kimmycup]

Japhael Strapped to an operating table, please 😄

Daily updates whaaaatttt? XD Also funny how both Japhael prompts ended up very similar but it’s gonna be great. Had fun with that one.

Seventh prompt fill for my @badthingshappenbingo card! To be found on ao3 here.

“Wanna go to the pool with me tomorrow?”

Raphael looked at Jace from where his head was bent over a book, pen in hand but not really making any notes or reading. He eyed the book for a moment before giving up on studying, pushing it all aside and focusing on his boyfriend.

“I’d love to, but I’m busy all day. I heard there’s a special price ticket for a midnight swim, though?”

Jace smiled, trying to hide his disappointment. Raphael never went out with him during the day. He wasn’t sure if he ever saw his boyfriend in the sunlight. At first, he had thought Raphael was ashamed of him, but then Raphael had introduced him to his friends, and Jace felt a little bit more at peace with their relationship. Leaning in for a kiss on the cheek, he smiled at the other boy.

“Sure. Midnight swim sounds romantic.” He teased, and Raphael rolled his eyes at him.

Jace didn’t mind Raphael having his secrets. Not when Jace himself had enough of his own. He stayed over for a little while longer, latching onto the chance for some of Raphael’s famous tamales, but eventually had to kiss him goodbye, before the sunrise caught him, considering he actually had classes at noon.

He left the familiar dorm building with a small smile on his face, entering the vast, warm darkness of a summer night, inhaling the fresh air. He allowed his feet to carry him through the park, relishing in how calm the world looked without anyone around.

He felt something sharp sting him in the neck, hand moving to find the guilty insect. He remembered nothing after that.

***

Jace woke up to the realization every part of his body ached, quickly followed by the terrifying awareness of what every part of his body meant.

His wings were out.

He struggled to move, trying to assess what was wrong, and promptly noticed he was strapped to an operating table, face down in a massage-style cradle, only definitely less relaxing with nothing but the worryingly bloodied floor in his line of view, hands stretched forward and held by leather straps at his wrists and elbows, his ankles, knees and lower back similarly restrained, leaving his wings outstretched and vulnerable.

He felt a strange tug at them too, keeping him from closing them and causing pain every time he tried. This did not bode well.

Whoever had taken him, if they had known about his wings, that meant they must have been incredibly dangerous. And Jace had a sinking suspicion of who exactly they were.

“Jonathan, my son.”

Jace was fully aware that struggle was futile in the compromised position he was in, tightly restrained and exposed but the very voice still made him instinctively flinch and look for a way to flee.

“Dad.” He hissed through his teeth, unable to keep the venom out of his voice.

“It’s been a while since we got to see each other.”

“Funny, I didn’t miss you.” Jace kept pushing at the straps holding him down, knowing he would only draw blood but too overwhelmed by sheer panic. “I sincerely hope this time when I get to see you die it’s for real.”

Jace felt a cold hand find its way into his wings and he felt his whole body shiver violently against his will, trying to move away from the unkindly touch. Valentine’s fingers just dug deeper into the wing, tightly closing around the feathers, making Jace bite back a whimper, suddenly happy his face was out of view.

“Such beauty… wasted. Truly a shame.” Jace’s wings twitched, causing Valentine to just yank harder, plucking a few feathers out. “Still, you were a largely successful experiment. I shouldn’t have thrown you out. You failed but I may still try and make some use of them.”

Jace tensed again, praying if he tried hard enough, his bonds would just magically disappear and he would wake up safe, in his bed, at home, with Raphael.

“They–” He spit out, hating the way Valentine made him feel objectified. “–are a part of me. And I’m not going to let you play with me like you always did this time.”

Valentine laughed, his grip relaxing, hand casually flowing through Jace’s feather, the touch making Jace want to vomit. Then Valentine’s hand stilled and gripped his wing tight, right where the bone was, twisting to the point it felt like burning agony, on the verge of breaking. Jace felt tears of pain prickle at his eyes as hot breath suddenly appeared near his ear.

“Let me? It’s sweet you think you are capable of doing anything but screaming right now. But don’t worry. I will fix you. I will find a way to make them work. I will pull them apart to find out every detail about the way they function and then I will take them for myself.”

Heavy silence suddenly rang loud in his ears as the hand disappeared, only uncomfortable tingling and painful unawareness left.

“I no longer need you attached to them.”

Jace felt his heart skip a beat, Valentine’s heavy footsteps suddenly retreating, followed by the deafening sound of the door closing. He could feel helplessness smothering him, uselessly tugging at the bonds.

Praying for Alec to help him, he allowed himself to be afraid.

***

“I need your help.”

Raphael stared, surprised, at his boyfriend’s brother in his doorway. Alec Lightwood looked definitely formidable in his black leather jacket, cargo pants, and… was that a bow on his back? Raphael’s eyes widened slightly. What was going on here?

“What the hell are you doing? I kind of have a date with Jace in an hour so I’m not sure–”

“–Jace got kidnapped.”

If it were possible, Raphael would have felt his heart stop.

“…What?”

“He never came home last night. I realized when I was trying to come over this afternoon. I tried calling him but his wasn’t answering his phone. I called Simon and he never turned up to class. I have… reasons to believe something happened. I would take Izzy or my own boyfriend but they are both unfortunately unavailable and Clary’s useless so… Jace trusts you, I’m ready to trust you too.”

Alec eyed him up and down in a way that made Raphael frown.

“And you seem… well, less useless. Can you fight?”

Raphael raised his eyebrows, wondering what the actual fuck Jace had gotten himself into. He was a trouble magnet, but this seemed more serious. Alec continued, blunt as ever, before Raphael could answer.

“Can I trust you? Are you ready to fight for Jace, no matter how you may find him?”

Raphael didn’t hesitate, already grabbing his jacket.

“In a heartbeat.”

***

Valentine didn’t return alone. There were people with him, several men, all in white shoes and greenish pants that made Jace think of doctors, except they probably did everything but help people.

Neither of them said anything and the silence was worse than any verbal promises of pain. Jace had never really known how much he relied on seeing until suddenly he found himself in this situation, feeling more helpless than if he was blindfolded.

He was at war with himself, telling himself to stay calm, to not move, whilst every cell in his body seemed to shiver with fearful anticipation.

Every step, every shoe that appeared in his line of view, every rustle of fabric and clinking of metal made him imagine things, his body suddenly hyper aware of the temperature and movement of air in the room.

He was torn between closing his eyes, as if the darkness could somehow comfort or protect him, a childish instinct, and between keeping his eyes open, just so he could catch a sliver of something that would help him.

Something metal clinked softly, but still overly loud on the tiles right under Jace’s face and with widening eyes and growing terror he realized what it was just as a gloved hand retrieved it off the floor.

“Wait, what the fuck was that?” He started to reflexively struggle in his bindings as reality sunk in. “That looked like a syringe. And it was fucking huge. What the fuck was-”

He tripped over his own words as the table he was lying on suddenly moved, bringing him up, giving him view over part of the room - operation room- he was in, although limited at an angle as he was.

The tools and bloody stains in sight did nothing to help calm him down and neither did Valentine appearing in front of him. Years of experience suddenly kicking in again, Jace steeled his face to not show one emotion in front of the man.

“Fascinating thing, bone marrow.”

Jace’s wing jerked instinctively, remembering all too well the descriptions of a procedure he had read at university. Valentine caressed his cheek in mock gentleness, making Jace’s insides twist in a neausating way while someone grabbed his wing, forcefully stretching it and trapping it in the crushing hold of something that locked it in place.

“The thing about birds, you see, is that they don’t have bone marrow. Not like humans. But you, you are a failure… Too human. Your bones are full and heavy and useless.”

Valentine spat the last word out, his hand slapping Jace’s face as it left, the strap holding his head in place making it unable to flinch away. Valentine moved his hand to Jace’s wing and once again Jace felt violated, hurt, dirty, just praying for the hand to disappear.

“I need to know why you can’t fly.”

Valentine plucked out a fistful of feathers as Jace whimpered in pain but he was quickly distracted by an even worse horror as something huge invaded his wing, biting its way between feathers into the bone, making Jace’s whole body explode with pain. It was a burning, unnatural kind of feeling, sucking and overwhelming and numbing, making him feel like he would pass out from pain.

Another needle bit into his other wing and he could feel silent tears roll down his cheeks. Everything was blurry…

***

Wings.

White, dusted with gold and speckled with bright red blood. Mangled, broken, and dirty but still majestic, breathtaking, beautiful like the man himself.

Raphael didn’t take time to process that information. He didn’t hesitate to rip Valentine’s throat out the moment he saw the man. Between him and Alec’s exceptional skill with a bow, the room was soon littered with dead bodies, the other man already freeing Jace’s wings by the time Raphael was done serving justice.

Soft sobs wreaked through the golden boy’s body as Alec was gently getting rid of the straps, one by one, revealing angry red welts where the leather bit into body as Jace struggled. Raphael wished he could kill Valentine again.

He gently approached his boyfriend and helped Alec ease him off the table, smoothing the soft fringe from half-open eyes.

“It’s alright. It’s alright, Jace. Can you walk?”

Alec’s voice registered with Raphael, Jace mumbling something akin to confirmation, his legs clearly not getting the message.

“We should hurry out. We don’t know who else may be coming.”

“He’s heavy. You’ll have to help me carry him.”

“If I may…” Raphael swallowed, fully aware he didn’t want to anger Alec Lightwood. “I can bite him. You saw I’m a vampire. If I bite him, the venom will give him some strength until we reach the car, and it should work like a temporary anesthesia, dulling his pain. It will help.”

Alec eyed him suspiciously but seemed to carefully consider it before nodding. He kept his eyes trained on Raphael as he had chosen a spot on Jace’s back close enough to the wings so it would be most effective.

Inhaling softly, focusing on his task, Raphael bit in, careful to not get lost in the sweet taste… God, how did Jace taste so good? He really shouldn’t be thinking about that. Tearing himself away before Alec put an arrow through his head, Raphael was happy to see that Jace seemed stunned, but a bit more aware, a bit less in agony.

“You’re a vampire… That’s why… midnight swim…”

It must have sounded like gibberish to any outsider, but it brought a weak smile to Raphael’s face as he put himself under Jace’s other wing, helping Alec carry him.

“I am. And you’re my angel. But we have to get you fixed first before we can resume our date.”

***

“Raph… I am hurting. Everywhere.”

Jace mumbled the words, eyes closed, not even checking if it was indeed his boyfriend by his side.

“I’m not surprised, unfortunately. Sorry to say so, but you will probably hurt for another few days. Magnus was here and he healed you – apparently Magnus is a warlock? I feel like there is quite a lot I missed about our friends.”

“Mhmm. Yeah, that. My wings feel like lead.”

“Valentine tried to take your marrow for examination, without anesthesia, and he ruffled your feathers quite a bit. Magnus says you’re grounded for the next few weeks. As in, literally?”

“Yeah…” Jace yawned and forced himself to open one eye, smiling at Raphael’s raised eyebrow. “Valentine tried to figure out why I can’t fly. I can fly.”

He chuckled softly at the absolute lack of understanding on Raphael’s face.

“I couldn’t fly until I was maybe fifteen… So at ten, Valentine threw me out like trash.”

He tried to keep the smile but it turned bitter and forced. Raphael’s expression softened, his fingers running softly through Jace’s feathers, the feeling pleasant and warm, so unlike Valentine’s touch.

“All your stories…”

“Were true, just didn’t mention, well, the wings. Hmmm…. You’re not freaking out about the wings. That’s nice. I can definitely get used to you grooming them.”

“I already knew you’re my angel, I just have proof now.” Raphael ignored Jace’s blush, focusing on the wings. “Besides, did you miss the part where I’m a vampire? You seemed pretty aware when you noticed it. Alec definitely didn’t miss it.”

Jace laughed at Raphael’s tone.

“You survived Alec’s shovel talk! That’s something. Half of Izzy’s boyfriends fled before he could start.”

“I think killing Valentine earned me some points with him.”

“Yeah, probably… That’s cool. Anyways, vampire. I was conscious for that. Midnight swim. Can we go for a swim in the day now, though?”

Raphael’s hand stilled in his feathers.

“Jace, angelito, we just established I’m a vampire. Should I get Magnus? Are you still not feeling well?”

“No, you idiot. I’m… My blood, it– I can make vampires walk in the daylight. We found out through Simon.”

The flabbergasted, slightly disgusted expression on Raphael’s face made Jace finally genuinely laugh out loud.

“Simon’s a vampire?”

***

“Are you sure…?”

“Hey.” Jace smiled at Raphael, watching his boyfriend anxiously eye the gloomy landscape basked in the almost darkness that came just before dawn. “I’m sure. Do you trust me?”

“Of course I do. And it worked already so just… I don’t know why I’m so anxious.”

Jace smiled, thinking about the way Raphael cried after he tried walking into the church and could finally safely pray within its walls. But they still hadn’t tried the sun. And Jace had found the perfect way for Raphael to see sunlight again for the first time in years.

“Come on.”

He watched Raphael nod and, while still unsure, allow Jace to strap him into the harness the blonde had already put on. Jace could feel his boyfriend shaking slightly, probably half from the cold and half from the anxiety.

He wrapped his arms around Raphael, calming him. They had talked about it. This wasn’t something Jace would make a surprise without making sure Raphael was fine with heights and all parts of the plan.

“Ready?” He whispered above the rustle of the wind and he was glad to see Raphael smile.

“As ready as I’ll ever be.”

“Then let’s fly into the sun.”

Jace grinned, unfolding his wings and relishing in the wind beneath them as he took off. Raphael screamed and clung a bit harder before relaxing, both of them soaring up the hill until finally, they reached open sky, just in time for the sunrise to peek out from under the horizon.

Hearing Raphael’s tiny gasp, feeling his beating heart under his hand and burying his face in his hair as they soared, in that moment Jace felt true happiness, finally free from all the curses of their past.

[mellicose]

That Woman Over There - Chapter 7

A You Me and Him Fix-it Fic

Rating: teen, for some strong language

Word count: 5830

Warnings: none

Summary: ~ Set after the birth of Monty, Olivia’s baby ~ A dear friend of Olivia comes to visit for a week, and she disturbs the fragile peace between her, Alex, and John.

Note: due to the length of this chapter, I won’t be posting the next one until next Wednesday. Enjoy!

Chapter 1 | Chapter 2 | Chapter 3 | Chapter 4 | Chapter 5 | Chapter 6

Chapter 7

He came back with drinks and sat hard beside her.

“Ow!” she yelled. “Your skinny ass is gonna leave a bruise!”

“Nonsense. I heard from very good sources that it’s quite nice,” he said. He drank deep from a longneck.

“What happened to those ladies you were working on? They looked pretty into it.”

“I gave them my business card,” he said dismissively.

“How analog of you,” she said. “Seriously, though. You just blew them off?”

He shrugged. “Yes and no. There will always be bored, horny women. Any night of the week, at any pub. That shit never changes.” There was something in his tone that stopped her from becoming offended for all womankind.

“What happened?” she said.

“What? With the women?”

“With your wife,” she said.

Again, he lay back and looked at the stars peeking through the clouds.

“You can’t see the stars in the heart of the city,” he said. “It’s not something you think about when you move. It’s usually whether to buy a car or not, or whether there’s a nice supermarket nearby, but never whether you’ll see the stars at night,” he said. “It’s so weird how easily priorities get … skewed.”

She sighed.

“She wasn’t happy. She dieted and exercised and experimented with different looks, but she wasn’t getting signed. And as time passed, it got worse and worse. Anxiety ate her alive. She began to get surgeries. And I, the ever obliging husband, paid for them. But nothing worked. Nothing was good enough. Not the flat, the city, and most glaringly … me.”

Her stomach bubbled.

“She had a thing she did,” he continued. “A rare talent, if you want to call it that. I’m a grown man. No glasses. No brace. But she had a way, ever so subtly, to make me feel like that bent boy again. And as time passed and things didn’t go like she wanted, it happened more and more. Until I was the boy - just a weak, whinging thing at her feet, begging for the least scrap of affection or sympathy.”

It’s like he took a slice of life from her childhood. How many times had she peeked around corners as her mom berated her father for no other reason than ennui? He would withstand her onslaught, softly clucking out an occasional “perdoname, mi amor”. 

She spit poison, but he knelt, brown eyes liquid with adoration, and apologized to her. Every time. Every day. For years. He wore his misery and shame so openly that she found herself averting her eyes. And although he was a good man - loyal and kind - she began to resent him.

“To add insult to injury, I suggested that we start a family. I figured that maybe if she had a wee baby to watch over, she wouldn’t be so worried about other things. I really fucked up then,” he said, eyes wide. “I was sexist. A selfish misogynist asshole, and I wanted her barefoot and bloated in the kitchen. That was a laugh. She didn’t cook.”

“Then how did you eat?” she said.

“I did the cooking. And most of the cleaning. She preferred to have a lie in and then go out for late lunches with friends.”

It wasn’t an odd confession. Her own mother never lifted a finger - they had a cleaning service come in every day to keep things tidy. Because her mother was so contrary, she was never able to form any connection to the staff, since they never lasted long.

“Why didn’t you get someone to come in to do the cleaning?”

His brow wrinkled with indignation. “I come from honest Scottish stock. It’s a shame not to be able to clean up your own muck. It was just us two, hardly an excuse to have some poor woman scrubbing and dusting after us.”

“They get paid to do it,” she said. She played with the buckle on her boot.

“You have a cleaner?” he said, giving her a disapproving look.

“No. My apartment’s small, and dust never really bothered me,” she winked at him. “It add character.”

“It gives me asthma,” he said.

“Then I guess you can’t come over,” she said.

“Am I invited? I could use a cheeky NYC holiday,” he said. “I’m curious about seeing American women in their natural habitat.”

“All animals, are we?”

He shook his head briskly. “Oh no, I didn’t mean it like that-”

“I get it. I was joking,” she said. “It’s a pity she didn’t want children.”

He stretched his legs out in front of him. “Last I heard, she’s a new mum to a healthy baby girl,” he said morosely. “She didn’t want to have my children.” He kicked at the firepit.

“Did she actually say that, though?” she said.

“Not quite. For the first half of the marriage, she insisted she couldn’t have children because it would ruin her figure. That made some sense to me, so I waited. We were young. But as things began to fall apart and it was obvious that there would be no modeling career, the truth finally came to light.”

“And what truth was that?”

He couldn’t look at her. No one knew the truth. Not Alex and Olivia. Not even his own mother. And he didn’t know why he was going to tell her. She noticed his hesitation, and squeezed his hand. Old pain began to rise from where he had subsumed it under a mountain of self-loathing and anger. He was suddenly dizzy with it.

“She didn’t want to procreate with me. She would be horrified if she had a ‘gimp kid.’” His voice was hoarse with pain. He put his head in his hands, and his body trembled as he tried to fight the urge to sob. Hearing it out loud, it took him back to the moment his life fell apart. Mara’s face had been so lax, so cold. She didn’t understand why he crumpled in his chair, and went pale as a sheet - to her, it made perfect sense.

“And when we lost Josie, I started to wonder…” he said, his face twisted with horror, “I started to wonder whether…” he took a whooping breath, “ whether it was my fault.” He finally broke down.

She wrapped her arms around him and let his choked sobs shake her. His pain humbled her - there was no anger whatsoever left in her. He tried to wave her away, but she insisted on holding him.  She shushed into his neck and held him tight, taking in the scent of leather and salt. His body curled into her, and he finally hugged her back so hard it made her ribs ache.

He disentangled himself and started to yank at the jewelry on his wrist. “Look-” He lost patience and bit off the fashionable thin leather thong bracelet. He held his right wrist up for her to see.

She rubbed her thumb along the cursive letters.

“Josie,” she read out loud. Without another thought, she kissed his wrist. A tear dripped on his palm. They sat there, just breathing. She pulled up the hem of her shorts. He squinted, then dared to brush the skin of her hip.

“It’s a poppy,” he said, mystified. “Quite nice.” Although tears still dried in his beard, he wasn’t just talking about the tattoo. She linked her fingers through his long ones. He warmed at her easy, mindless gesture. It felt so very nice. Almost better than sex.

“That was her name. Poppy,” she said, smiling at him. “She wasn’t mine through blood or marriage, but I love her with all my heart.”

Was it another girlfriend? His heart dropped. “Wait - who are you talking about?” he said softly. He didn’t remember Olivia mentioning a Poppy.

“She was Ella’s little girl,” she said.

He couldn’t hide his relief. “Her daughter. I see. What happened with Ella?”

She squeezed his hand. “The most common but painful of conjugal sins - infidelity. Our relationship no longer held any adventure or excitement for her. This is a quote.”

“How many years were you together?” he said, rubbing her back.

“Four years, 7 months, and 20 days,” she said. “Nothing like you and Mara.”

“What do you mean?” he asked.

“At least Mara married you. Ella didn’t believe in the institute of matrimony. She said it was heteronormative garbage and she refused to tow the line for the sake of a false sense of propriety.”

He sucked his teeth. “She sounds a delight,” he said. “So you wanted to do the whole white frock and flowers thing, eh?”

“I love weddings, straight and gay. I’m an unapologetic weeper,” she said. “I guess I wanted that for me. To share our love with people - make a public and binding commitment in front of God and man.”

“Ooh,” he said. “Binding. That just gave me chills.”

“You were married,” she said.

“If it isn’t already apparent, it was harrowing.”

“You loved her, though,” she said. “Didn’t you?”

“Yes,” he said simply. “At best, she loved the idea of me. The stability and ease of a life with me. But she never loved me. And it happens far too often.”

“You know, not all women see their partners as walking ATM machines,” she said petulantly. She was the main breadwinner as well. But up until the end, she chose to believe it was love, and not being a stable dupe to raise her kid, that kept Ella around.

“I could tell you some stories,” he said, his eyebrows high. “Sad, sad stories.”

“Like what?”

“The divorce process isn’t kind to many men - even those who did things very right. It’s the woman’s word above all, even when there is proof of infidelity.” He cleared his throat.

“Imagine how awkward it is when it’s two women,” she said. He looked confused. “I’ll give you a clue: complete and utter shitstorm.”

“Did Ella take you for all you had, then?” he said, too jovially.

“Thing is, she didn’t have to. Even after the breakup,  I wanted to help her find a proper place for Poppy to grow up, and give her money for her schooling. But she didn’t care. She never really worried about … prosaic things like that, and that’s what worries me. She was the stereotypical  hipster artist, and because I loved her, for four years, I paid for the lifestyle. It didn’t bother me, John. It made me happy to see them thrive, to do and give beautiful things. I never kept a running tally, to my lawyer’s chagrin,” she said, giving him a half smile. “I understand how women can be. We’re not perfect. But as a bi woman, I’m a bit closer.” She winked.

“How so?” he said. She still held his hand loosely on her lap. Her thighs were like velvet.

“I was just joking. What I mean is, I’m straddling a fence and able to look at both sides, both physically and emotionally. Men complain that women are too emotional. Women complain that men don’t listen. And both are right, to a degree. But even if the complaints from both sides are similar, it’s still an individual problem.”

“Life with Mara was constantly walking on eggshells,” he said. “Anything I said, no matter how well-meaning, could end up upsetting her in some way. Still happens, honestly,” he said, giving her a sidelong glance.

She chose to ignore it. “I acknowledge what you said, but what if I told you that it was Mara’s insecurity, and not you, that caused all that misery? It wasn’t your fault.”

“How could such a beautiful woman be insecure? Either way, I tried to make it better the best way I could. With compliments, and kindness, and attention, and trips - I took her to bloody Bali. Paradise. And all she did was sulk in bikini for a week. She looked fucking beautiful, though.” He shook his head.

Connie smiled and bit her lip. She knew the feeling. Her and Ella’s last trip to Thailand had been much of the same - her trying to stay positive and pretend things weren’t falling apart, and Ella finding any excuse to go off by herself.

“Hey …” he squeezed her hand. “You’re gonna chew your lip off,” he said, and pressed his finger on her chin, dislodging it from her teeth. It was bruised and red.

“Did I say something stupid?” he said.

“No. Of course not,” she said. She sucked on her lip pensively. “Sometimes, that kindness and attention is what makes it worse.”

It was getting colder, and the fire was getting lower. He leaned into her and put his arm around her shoulder.

“Wait-” she said, stiffening.

“I’m sorry- it’s just, you’re shivering,” he said, but let her go. He took off his jacket and held it up. “Here. Put it on. Still warm.”

She opened her mouth to protest - something about preferring to freeze than wear his obnoxiously hip leather jacket - but instead, she accepted his gesture gracefully. She slid into it and sat down with a sigh. His scent surrounded her and made her smile. He smelled of … herbaceous green and the ghost of fresh cut wood. Despite the warmth, she got goosebumps.

“Thanks,” she said. His nipples poked through his thin cotton henley shirt. “Now you’re cold, though.”

He smiled and rubbed his chest. Pink rose to his cheeks above the beard. “It’s the price I pay for being a gentleman.”

“You did it on purpose,” she said, nudging him. “You wanted to show the world your goods.”

“The world’s not here,” he said. “Just you.”

His intense gaze made her heart race, but she laughed it off. Oh no. He’s not gonna do some MRA mind tricks on her.

“Okay, what is this? A three-step system to get any woman to bed?” she said. “Because it’s not gonna work on me, slick.”

His eyes narrowed. “What are you going on about?” He sounded genuinely puzzled.

“You know - number one: engage her, and make her feel in control. Number 2: be vulnerable, and allow her to be vulnerable. Number three …” she stood up and started to walk around the patio, searching for the words,”...give her your jacket and make her feel safe. Yeah. Safe. I see you,” she said, nodding and smirking. “You’re not clever, hipster boy.”

He looked down at his hands and shook his head. “I’m very clever, but this is no ruse. I’m genuinely freezing my lads off right now.”

She took off the jacket. “Then here.” She held it up impatiently.

“I clearly said I would buy you a drink and leave you alone. You are the one who asked me to stay.”

“No I didn’t,” she said. Her arm was starting to burn. The jacket was heavy, but he didn’t take it back. She threw it on the bench and crossed her arms.

“Yes, you did. You asked me what I did for a living. I replied that to answer your question, I would have to remain. You said that this was a public space, and that you couldn’t put me out, implying consent to continuing the conversation.”

She sat down, still pouting. He resisted the urge to smile.

“You think I would say those private things just to get a woman into bed?” he said. “It’s not much of a show of strength, is it?”

She shivered. “Whatever. It’s just not gonna work on me.”

“I wasn’t trying to work you,” he said, and stood up. It stung that she thought the things he told her were just a means to an end. “You women are impossible. If we talk a big game, then we’re egotistical jerks. If we dare to be vulnerable, then we’re weak and revolting. This is why I gave up trying to please you lot. It’s so much easier to please myself - at least I know what I’m about.”

“Shocking revelation,” she said under her breath.

He groaned with frustration. “And things were going so well.”

“See! You were working me!” she said, pointing at him.

He rolled his eyes. “I was trying to get to know you - see what Liv sees. There is a massive fucking difference,” he said.

She faltered, but she refused to give up.  “Why do you care what Liv sees, or feels anyway? You were an utter twat to her. She told me what you did at the park. You … barked a fake orgasm in public to humiliate her even more about what happened between you and Alex.”

“I didn’t really know her then, and I thought the whole thing was a weird lesbian sham. Sandwiches at the park? How civil,” he said. “Bollocks!”

“That’s how she is, though. Civil and kind and lovely,” she said. She didn’t know why her voice was up an octave.

“Well, I didn’t know that then,” he said, matching her volume. “I just thought she was the evil gatekeeper keeping me from who could be the actual love of my life.”

Her jaw dropped. “You loved Alex?” Livvie didn’t tell her that.

He rubbed his face. “I thought I did. I mean, I do, but then, I wanted her as well, for myself. Our drunk thing and what happened afterward felt like it was destined. And that little stunt at the park? I was jealous. Seething.”

“Fuck,” she said softly. “I am so confused.”

“So was I,” he said. “Trust me. Alex and I were drunk that night, but we weren’t …” he tried to find the right words, “... she wasn’t so gone that she didn’t know …” he sighed. She waited for him to finish.

“She was the one who pulled me up the stairs to bed,” he said. “She ripped my clothes-”

She held up her hand. “I don’t need to hear more. Suffice it to say, there was consent.”

“Because I knew that, I thought it meant that maybe there was a chance. That she might choose me. Especially after the baby.”

She sat down hard. Olivia had not told her that, and she knew why. It was weird. And painful. And awkward.

“But you had to know that Alex is a lesbian,” she said finally.

“Should I know? Because she sure didn’t fu-”

She held up her hand for silence again. 

“I’m sorry. It felt weird sometimes, like she wanted me but was too afraid to say so for fear of being judged or something.”

“She did care for you, but more importantly, she needed you. She was pregnant, and frightened, and on the horns of a fearful dilemma - literally.”

“That’s exactly what I said.”

“No, you think I’m saying she wanted you … sexually. But she didn’t.”

“But she did.”

“She was drunk, and furious, and scared.”

“And really horny,” he said. She rolled her eyes.

“I’m sorry to break it to you, but friction is friction if you’re drunk enough,” she said. “You were there, and willing. She made do.”

He sat down beside her again. “And it hurt.”

“Slamming your dick up against a brick wall will do that,” she said.

“It made me feel used.”

“Welcome to the fucking club, kid,” she said. “She told you she’s gay. She introduces you to her girlfriend. You never see male overnight guests. Again … Wall. Cock.” She wished she had another drink to warm her. “You still have those feelings for her?”

“No,” he said. “I was so ecstatic about Josie that what was a just a pash blew up to something more. I wanted to love her. I absolutely did. She checked all the boxes - creative, beautiful, passionate - but I realized after losing the baby that we were more meant to be friends.”

“How convenient,” she said.

“Really. We’re very alike, in a lot of ways. Too much, honestly,” he said, chuckling. “That ever happen to you?”

“Yeah,” she said. “With Olivia,” she said.

“Exactly,” he said. “Although the circumstances were weird, I feel so lucky that Olivia, Alex, and I found each other. They changed my life,” he said.

“In myriad ways,” she said, smiling. She couldn’t imagine a life without Olivia.

He laughed softly beside her.

“What?” she said.

“Just thinking. Slamming my cock up against a brick wall. That’s choice.”

“It’s what you did, though. Al’s gay as fuck. Her words, not mine.”

“Are you?” he asked.

“I’m bi, remember?”

“But … you wanted to marry Ella.”

“And?”

“That’s pretty lesbian of you.”

“I loved her,” she said. “Ella could’ve easily been … Elton.”

“Fair warning though - he’s gay as fuck,” he said.

She chuckled. “You know what I mean.”

“Men and women are so different. I don’t understand how you could want both equally.”

“That’s what’s most amazing. The differences. It keeps things interesting.”

“But what if you’re with a woman, and you want to be with a man? What do you do?”

“Is it a committed monogamous relationship?”

"Let’s say yeah.”

“What any good person in a committed relationship does. Practice self-control. Bisexuality is not carte blanche to be a callous, greedy bastard.”

“Fair enough,” he said. “You ever cheated?”

“This conversation is getting deeply personal again,” she said.

“Afraid to answer the question?” he said, raising his eyebrow.

“No! And no.”

“Never?” he said. “Not even a little kiss?”

“No,” she said, irritated. “I think it’s cowardly.”

“How?”

“You ever done it?” she asked, eyeing him.

“I asked the question first. Answer it, then I’ll answer you.”

“It’s cowardly because it’s the easy way out for a person who can’t muster up the bravery to tell their partner the difficult truth that they’re not happy. If they cheat, then it circumvents it completely. It’s like ‘Oops! I went outside the relationship. That’s gross, right? You hate me now, huh? Don’t worry, I’ll let myself out…’”

Her voice trembled.

“Spot on,” he said. “Mara didn’t even give me a chance to get angry, though. She didn’t care enough. It was like ‘I’ve been fucking someone else for a year, he makes me feel like a woman, I’ll send someone for my shit, goodbye’.”

The noise from the pub was quieting down. The fire was down to embers.

“I got the line ‘she makes me feel like my most authentic self’. What does that even mean?”

“It’s hipster speak for ‘makes me feel like a woman’,” he said, then let out a snort. She looked at him, thinking he might start crying again. But his face glowed with a smile.

“We’re quite a pair, you and I,” he said. “What a fucking pity party.”

“And worst of all, my glass is empty,” she said. “What time is it?”

He looked at his cell and laughed. “Fuck, it’s after 1 AM!”

“Really?” she said. “You’re telling me we’ve been here for nearly five hours? Impossible.”

He showed her the phone.

“Damn,” she said. “No wonder it’s so quiet in the pub.” She rubbed her nose pensively, something he noticed she did a lot.

“Has anyone told you how utterly charming you are when you’re angry?” he said. He tucked a tendril of her hair behind her ear, brushing his knuckle gently along her cheek bone.

“No one who doesn’t want a bruise,” she said, but she smiled. She liked his touch. It was gentle and unassuming.

“Then I will say that you are very intimidating. You made me quake in my boots a couple times.”

She lifted her chin high and raised an eyebrow. “Good.”

“You’re so fucking adorable,” he said, shaking his head and smiling.

“Puppies are adorable,” she said. She meant to nudge him, but ended up leaning against him. He felt good.

“You’re right, I suppose,” he said, daring to wrap his arm around her waist. His touch was feather-light, but warm.”You are beautiful.” The way he said it made her look up at him and search his eyes. The swagger she saw earlier was gone. His gaze questioned, and she responded, tilting her head and giving him the slightest smile. He put his hand on her face. Her nipples hardened, although his touch was warm.

He kissed the side of her mouth first. The prickle of his beard made her giggle, but she put her hand on the back of his neck to guide him.

“I didn’t want to offend with the porn beard,” he whispered into her mouth. His lips were so maddeningly soft. The cold flew from her limbs, and it was replaced with desire.

“A little hair doesn’t bother me,” she said, and just as he pressed his lips to hers, someone came out and threw a bucket of dirty dish water on the embers of the fire.

The woman gave them a cursory glance. “We’re closing in 20 minutes,” she said, and left.

He stood up and held out his hand. “I guess that means it’s time to bugger off,” he said. “I’ll walk you home.”

“Didn't you drive here, though?” she said. She licked her bruised lip for a hint of a taste of him. Sadly, there was none.

“Yeah. But I’m just in the mood for a moonlit stroll,” he said. When she stood, he put his jacket over her shoulders again. “I can pick up my car tomorrow.”

He held his arm out gallantly, and she linked hers through it. It was a small town, so just beyond the high street, there was only silence and the yellow glow of the street lamps. When was the last time she had ever done this, with anyone?

Too long. And she forgot how good it was.

He bounced beside her, slowing his long-gaited walk to accommodate her.

“What are you so excited about?” she asked.

“I can’t wait for the party tomorrow! I hope Olivia likes her gift. It’s a trifle late, but then again, it took a while longer than I imagined to make.”

“Ooh, sounds interesting. Is it in your magic shop?” she said. They turned the corner, and his house was visible not too far off.

He walked in front of her and took her hands. “Would you like to see?” he said. His boyish energy was infectious. Although at first she thought it irritating, it was growing on her. It was nice being around someone like that, after years of Ella’s borderline soporific coolness.

“Sure,” she said. They were nearly running now. Just as soon as they turned into his front yard, a car engine roared to a stop nearby. In the street, a taxi unloaded two very familiar, very drunk women.

“Oh shit-” he ran toward the taxi, but he drove off, glad to be rid of them.

“Heya there, playboy,” the red head slurred, tripping over her feet and falling to the grass. As he tried to help her up, the blonde came up behind him and grabbed his crotch, hard. He dropped the redhead and held the blonde’s wrists firmly.

“Careful with the jewels, darling,” he said. He was pale with pain.

The redhead managed to get on her knees. She touched him too, but with gentler hands.

“Whoa!” he said, and pulled the woman to standing. She leered up at him, licking her lips.

“You gonna make good on your promise?” she said. “We’re here and ready to go-” she tried to hump his leg, but he held her at arm’s length. The lights from the neighbors across the street came on. He cursed underneath his breath.

He ran up to his door and opened it. “Just … get inside and keep quiet.”

“Don’t wanna give your fancy detached neighbors a show, eh?” the blonde said as she climbed the steps, lifting her skirt high. Her hot pink thong had little rhinestones on it. Just as soon as they went inside, he went to her. She stood in Olivia’s garden, arms crossed. She didn’t look mad, which made him even more nervous.

“I am so sorry,” he said.

“What are you doing here? It seems they’re primed and ready to have some fun,” she said. His kitchen window opened and the redhead stuck her head out.

“Oi! Get your ass over here, playboy,” she said. “And you can join us too, if you’re not shy,” she said, giving her a lascivious look.

“You got anything to drink in this place?” the blonde yelled from inside the kitchen.

“It really looks like you have your hands full. I’m gonna turn in,” Connie said, walking to the back door.

“Please, don’t leave me alone. I don’t want them in-” something crashed in the kitchen, “-I don’t want them in my house.”

“Then why did you invite them?” she said.

“I didn’t. Not really. We were flirting a bit, then you came into the bar … shit!” he slapped his forehead. “The business cards. They had my address.”

“Why?” she said.

“I work from home, remember?” he said. “I’m such an idiot.” An ominous thud came from the open window. When she looked, the two women were drunkenly making out. It was not a pretty sight. He gave them a despairing look and turned back to her.

“Help me get them out of my house,” he said, his face twisted in embarrassment.

“But it looks like they’ve already started without you,” she said. The redhead had pulled the blonde’s dress down and was licking her breasts. He groaned. “Please. I don’t want to … touch them.”

“You did earlier,” she said. She couldn’t believe she was going to make out with him just 20 minutes before.

“A lot has happened since then,” he said, giving her a meaningful look. “I know it doesn’t look good, but I swear this has never happened before.” The blond sat on the counter, and the redhead disappeared below the sill. “It’s just my luck it would happen tonight, of all the nights in my bloody life.”

“You should post the experience on your little site. The mouthbreathers will be really impressed.”

“I deserved that. You know what? I’ll take that, and more, if you help me this once. Please.” He looked miserable. “Use your angry powers for good.”

She rolled her eyes. He fell to his knees and grabbed her legs.

“I can’t believe I’m doing this,” she said, and stalked across his yard. The ladies jumped when she yanked the kitchen door open.

She clapped her hands. “Alright, ladies. As they say in America, you don’t have to go home but you can’t stay here.”

The redhead came up from between the blonde’s legs and wiped her chin. “What are you like, his mum?” she said. “Where’s playboy?”

“Off somewhere calling you another taxi,” she said, loudly enough for him to hear from the garden. “Playboy. Do you even know his name?”

“Names don’t matter, do they?” the redhead said, but she pulled his business card from between her breasts. She squinted at it. “Fuck. Don’t have my contacts in-”

Connie took the card from her and crumpled it. “It doesn’t matter, right?” She pointed at the blonde. “Get yourself together and fuck off to the living room. You can wait for the taxi there, where I can’t see you,” she said, and walked back outside.

“Someone should be by in less than five minutes,” he said.

She made a face. “A taxi in less than five minutes?” That was a statistical impossibility where she came from.

“I know. But I promised to pay whoever got here first three times the going rate, plus tip,” he said.

That made a lot more sense.

“They’re not destroying things, are they?” he said.

“Oh my-” She ran back into his house. They were stuffing anything small they could get their hands on in their cheap purses - curios, CDs, and a little comic book figurine that looked expensive.

She darted into his foyer, where he had a proper English willow cricket bat and walked into the living room, bat held high.

“Empty your bags right now or I swear I will call the police and report a home invasion,” she said, her voice low with anger. “But that’s after I call an ambulance.” The women sized her up, and decided she wasn’t worth the risk - the crazy bitch might not be bluffing.

The redhead dropped the George Harrison CD in her hand. “Sure. Whatever. This stuff’s shit anyway,” she said, and started taking stuff out of her purse.

“No, boo. Empty your fucking purse on the carpet,” she said, pointing at her with the bat. “Both of you.”

They rolled their eyes and obeyed. The women had even stolen a wooden pepper grinder from the kitchen. Connie rolled her eyes as they put their meager belongings back into their bags and clutched them to their chests.

They looked at her with open resentment. “You ‘is bird er summat? The blonde said, going full Northern.

“I’m none of your goddamned business,” she said. The bat was still gripped tight in her hand. The taxi honked outside.”Alright, time to go,” she said, herding them through his front door. They stumbled to the vehicle, where John spoke with the driver.

He handed the man a couple of large notes. “Take them wherever they want to go,” he said. “There’s a bit extra there for clean up, just in case.” The man nodded.

“This wasn’t the ride you promised,” the redhead said petulantly.

“Sorry, love,” he said and walked to the sidewalk. The blonde opened the window and stuck two fingers out at Connie. The rude sound she made faded as the taxi drove away.

“Wow. It’s been quite an evening,” she said. “A rollercoaster of emotions.”

He kicked at the curb sheepishly. “Thanks for your help. I just didn’t want them to say that I’d touched them funny or yelled at them or something.” He looked at her and chuckled. “The bat looks good on you.”

“Oh,” she said. It was still slung over her shoulder. She handed it back to him. “I should get to sleep. Big day tomorrow.”

He sighed. “Yeah.”

She rooted for the house keys in her pocket. Her heart was heavy. She wanted to be furious at him, but she wasn’t. She was just sad. He ran to the stoop.

“This was not how imagined tonight ending,” he said, hand over his heart. “I apologize if that upset you.”

“Is that what you want? To be a sex object to horny, faceless women? Is that the definition of being an alpha male?”

His genuine panic when the blonde grabbed at him made her curious.

“After years and years of being insulted and rejected, it’s not the worst thing in the world. Granted, that was a bit scary. Sometimes I don’t know my own magnetic charm,” he said, trying to get a laugh out of her. But she just patted his shoulder wearily.

“I need sleep,” she said.

His smile faltered. “I’ll see you tomorrow, er, later today.”

“Uhuh,” she said. He took her hand and squeezed it. She squeezed back, and closed the door.

Next Chapter

[heyamyrolfe]

Reuknit Them: Destiny’s Child

(Read on fanfic.net)

Dalinar grumbled to himself as he shifted boxes, more boxes in his garage filled endlessly with boxes, trying to find his old competition achievements. Finally, a box with a light dusting of glitter caught the light.

“Ha!” he exclaimed triumphantly. “Adolin! Get in here, I found it.”

The kid thought he could “shot the put” further than his old man? At 23? Unlikely. Dalinar had been the shot put champion of his day. Adolin poked his head around the door into the garage.

Dalinar tore open the box, sending a shower of glitter through the still garage air, and tossed his Personal Best, framed in Shinovarian hardwood, at Adolin. Adolin scrutinised the certificate for a long moment, even though the glyphs were simple, and the boy couldn’t read the women’s script that embellished it. Could the boy even read the glyphs? At least the picture of the shotput was clear. Dalinar turned back to his Trophy Box. Another box ornamented with glitter caught his eye; the glitter was black, the surest sign of sorrow and mourning in the creative community. It couldn’t be. After all these years?

Yet he knew in his heart of hearts exactly what it was. He remembered hauling the box here, slamming it to the ground and haphazardly showering the box with the black glitter that seemed to consume all light around it, giving the box the kind of desolate aura it deserved. Adolin had been speaking, but it was only a buzzing in his ears. He fell to his knees before the box, tears rising unbidden in his sorrowful blue eyes. He ran his hand across the gritty surface, the old glitter pricking his hands. Of course, that was a warning to himself from the past.

Don’t open this box, Dalinar. It brings only pain.

But, storm it, he was the Blackthorn. Cardboard could not contain what it would take to intimidate him. It had been long enough. He unlocked the metaphorical chest of memories that had been closed to him for so long, tearing the old tape away with no thought for flair not flourish. The memories hit him in a vertigo inducing wave, accompanied by the dust that had accumulated over the many years.

He stared.

He sat.

He remembered.

Reuknit them.

By the time he came back to himself Adolin had left and the sun had set. Dalinar cradled the box in his arms. It had caused him so much pain, but it had also been responsible for so much of the joy in his life. Dare he tempt fate and bear the burdens hidden in this box?

Reuknit them.

There is was again! A ghostly voice from nowhere! Reuknit them? He stared back at the box, wondering if he was going mad, imagining a call to action to justify his own deep seated desires. A tear dropped tremulously from the end of his nose and plinked on the end of something pointed, sending out a small shower of droplets.

His doubles needles. Their doubles needles.

Dalinar tugged the needles out of the box. The pairs were all separate now, but the four could be attached to each other and form two massive needles that the team could knit with, one in front, the other behind. The one in front was in charge of the precise details of the stitches, while the other was in charge of the speed and physicality. The latter had always been Dalinar’s forte. As well as knitting in tandem, the needles could be used to knit from one end of a piece and meet in the middle. Dalinar had once constructed a unity scarf for all the highprinces of Alethkar to wear when they had meetings together. Well, Dalinar and… And Sadeas had constructed it.

Sadeas was always the one on the other end, or in front of him when he knitted.

It wasn’t like that now. Hadn’t been for years. Not since…

“What are you doing?” Dalinar dropped his glitter pen and handmade condolences cards from numb fingers. Shock and horror had filled him to the brim and spilled over into his voice. He had returned to the Craft Competition Hall to retrieve Renarin, who had lost his glasses and had been hiding under one of the stalls, but instead he had found Sadeas hunched over a table that did not belong to them. The flash of dressmakers scissors could not be disguised from Dalinar’s experienced eyes, even in the dim twilight of the Crafter’s afternoon tea break when all the lights were extinguished in the Competition Hall and ancient rivalries briefly set aside over finger sandwiches and tea in the rose garden outside.

“What am I doing? What needs to be done,” Sadeas rasped. His lovely long dark hair swung around his face in a sinister curtain more fine than any human craftster could create. Dalinar had been around craft halls his entire life, and he had no illusions about what was happening.

“Sadeas, you’re out of control! First, knitting for personal gain, now sabotaging our competition? We’re better than this...or, I thought we were.”

Sadeas chuckled menacingly. “Are we really better than this, Dalinar? Knitting is a young man’s game, and if we don’t decorate using every shell we find on the beach to keep up, then we’re going to become irrelevant very quickly.”

“Sadeas we had a dream once, we were going to darn the holes of this great nation of ours, and make it something to be proud of again.”

“Dalinar, you’re a dropped stitch in the scarf of time. Idealists like you won’t survive in this society.” He stooped down to the victim of his scissors, and with one smooth movement tugged a thread from the gorgeous feat of human ingenuity. When it was picked up, the whole artwork would unravel...just like Dalinar’s dreams for the future were unravelling before his very eyes.

"Have you forgotten all our plans, Sadeas? We were going to send socks to the poor! No one was going to be cold. Not while there was yarn in Alethkar, and life in my fingers.”

"Yes Dalinar,” Sadeas spat. “I remember. Of course I remember! But it just isn't feasible, not any more."

"Because you've become too Mighty for such a noble goal?" Dalinar rumbled in disdain.

Sadeas stepped closer, eyes full of distaste, a sneer curling his lips. "Because no one has willingly worn home knitted clothing in decades, you fool."

Dalinar snapped painfully back to the present again. The rough concrete of his garage floor was digging uncomfortably into his knees through his trousers, and he was alone, again.

His eyes were drawn back to the open box with the inevitability of dreadful fate. He knew that underneath his colour-coordinated tray of bobbin thread was the last scarf they had ever started together. He reached out tremulously to take Destiny back into his own hands-- that was the name of the scarf and his fate-- but he stopped at the sight of his tear drenched sleeve. He had been crying this whole time. He gasped, his head was pounding, his throat was raw, a deadly error in the crafting scene. He hadn’t hydrated himself before approaching an emotionally taxing task. He staggered to his feet, wiping yet more tears on his, luckily, colourfast blue jumper and careened out of the garage, the kitchen his destination, and a glass of water his goal.

Dalinar seized the doorframe for support, but as he swung himself forward he collided blindly with something.

“Whoa, dude, sorry, I didn’t see you there in the dark,” said a tall voice. The stranger attempted to catch his slipping, half-zipped backpack and protect it’s contents. “I was just here to play some b-ball with Ades.” Dalinar looked up, eyes still filmed with tears. He heard the unmistakable sound of high quality knitting needles plinking to the ground, and soft yarn unravelling from its spool. The look of anxiety in the young man’s eyes told Dalinar that he heard it too. Quickly they both stooped to gather the knitting essentials from the ground before the luxury merino yarn was sullied by the floor. Luckily Dalinar kept his floors spotless for just this reason.

“Quite a project by the look of it,” Dalinar choked.

“Yeah, I guess I’m a bit of a yarn-smith!” the boy chuckled, shifting his grip on his skateboard uncomfortably. Dalinar ran his fingers over the meticulously tight stitches.

“I guess I could call myself one too…” They locked eyes, and the young man understandingly handed him a water bottle in a hand crafted cosy cooler.

“I’m Kaladin,” he said, slinging his backpack back over one shoulder from where it had slipped.

“I’m Dalinar,” he replied. “I think we might get on quite well, son. Do you believe...in Destiny?”

[plvuial]

aaahh thank you for tagging me mayo @novafirst1 !!! i was gonna do this tomorrow but i can't sleep so *shrugs* Rules: Answer all questions, add one question of your own and tag as many people as there are questions. 1. Coke or Pepsi: coke i guess? tbh i can't tell the difference 2. Disney or Dreamworks: hmm disney? mostly bc i can't even remember any dreamworks movies lmao 3. Coffee or Tea: definitely tea 4. Books or Movies: books,,,,but i'll watch a ghibli movie over a book any day 5. Windows or Mac: i mean i have a windows computer and all of my friends have mac sso,, gotta stay Loyal to the window 6. DC or Marvel: no idea sorry 7. X-Box or Playstation: no ,, idea,, sorry ,, 8. Dragon Age or Mass Effect: nO,, ,idEA,,, ,,,, sORRY, , 9. Night Owl or Early Riser: ah i'm gonna have to go with early riser! idk 5am is a very strange atmosphere i like it ,, maybe it's just that i'm used to getting up early 10. Cards or Chess: i've played chess like twice and both times i was horrendous ,, but i do like playing cards!! esp scum *has intense flashbacks* 11. Chocolate or Vanilla: ooh i was gonna say chocolate but idk vanilla is nice too! depends on what kind of food tbh but i'm leaning towards vanilla 12. Vans or Converse: converse i don't even have vans 13. Lavellan, Trevelyan, Cadash or Adaar: lol wut 14. Fluff or Angst: both!! although i ,, only write fluff i Love the Pain 15. Beach or Forest: beach 16. Dogs or Cats: both!, 17. Clear Skies or Rain: i like bothhh 18. Cooking or Eating Out: idk cooking is p fun! also i'm broke 19. Spicy Food or Mild Food: i can't eat spicy food,, so mild,,,, (one time i was in my hometown and my parents said oh she can't eat spicy food so my relatives were like 'ok this and this aren't spicy!' so i was like nice! and ate it and iT WAS VERY SPICY my mouth was on fire) 20. Halloween/Samhain or Christmas/Yule/Solistice: um neither i guess? i haven't gone trick or treating in a long time...and we don't really celebrate christmas too much like we don't even put up a tree anymore lmao...but i guess christmas is nice...it's a very comforting time,,,and also presents are nice... 21. Would you rather be a little too hot or a little too cold: too cold 22. If you could have a superpower, what would it be: flight? or teleportation or smthn like that,, or like breathing underwater that'd be cool 23. Animation or Live Action: animation for sure 24. Paragon or Renegade: uh 25. Baths or Showers: shower? i guess 26. Team Cap or Team Ironman: tentatively team cap,,, i don't know much about either of them though 27. Fantasy or Sci Fi: ooohhhhh can i say both? i like both! 28. Do you have three or four favourite quotes, if so what are they: nah m8 29. Youtube or Netflix: youtube.. i don't have netflix ! 30. Harry Potter or Percy Jackson: ugahH bOth !! both are very good in their own way i mean percy jackson,,, one of the first series i fell in love with (still will never get over leo and calypso man) but hp is such a classic 31. When you feel accomplished: good grades bc i'm. shallow. also during sports i play i guess? and when i make people smile/laugh i mean that's always a nice feeling 32. Star Wars or Star Trek: idk star trek so star wars 33. Paperback or Hardback: i like both! but hardback more lol 34. Horror or Rom-Com: i rlly like horror movies! not necessarily jumpscares or gore but more like,, psychological horror they creep me out but i rlly like the feeling for some reason? but like. preferably watching with someone else. ha. but romcoms are nice too i just sometimes find them,, kinda cheesy lol 35. TV Shows or Movies: uhhhhm probably movies 36. Favourite Animal: i don't have one i like Many 37. Favorite Genre of Music: pop for the most part lmao but it varies a lot 38. Least Favorite Book: hmm books where the main characters are ,,, bland. yeah u know the kind of books 39. Favourite Season: i like autumn! 40. Song that’s currently stuck in your head: ed sheeran - happier lmao speaking of which have u guys listened to his new album yet 41. What kind of pyjamas do you wear: um pajama shorts and a shirt? ya 42. If you could be any fictional character’s best friend, who’d you be: idk i,, like my friends atmmm (wow that was cheesy) but i think scorpius from cursed child is a Cool Guy that i would love to be friends with !!! 43. If you could choose one song to be played at your funeral, what would it be: idk lol 44. Smiling or Smirking: um smiling? idk i mean the word smirking is used all the time in books but what does it Really look like.? also smirking is like,, kinda mean isn't it 45. Harry Potter Movies or Books: def books but the movies are p great too! 46. Something you’re proud of: oh a lot of things...not so much proud but more like grateful for? yes a lot too many to name . gratitude and pride go hand in hadn't i think 47. Favorite Indian dish: idk like butter chicken? apparently it's not even an authentic indian dish lmao i'm sorry 48. Weirdest Ship/OTP/Pairing: idk?. there are a lot of rare pairs in hq i ship but i wouldn't call them weird 49. Weirdest Dream: once when i was 5 i dreamed my best friend came to my house in the middle of the night and started beating me up,, that dream has always stuck with me for some reason...i mean there are many more but they're,,, very confusing so 50. If you owned a star, what would you name it: if i owned one?.. idk,, like claire ,,, or smthn,,, is andromeda already a star name i think it is.. i don't think i would want to own a star they can't really be owned 51. Favorite Flower: i ,, don't know enough abt flowers to have a favourite ,, all i know is they look nice and smell nice sometimes! also taste nice like i remember in primary every one would stop and eat the nectar of honeysuckle flowers during cross country bc we always passed a hedge full of them but once i did it and there were fucjing ants inside it ,, it was a traumatic experience,,,i have not touched a honeysuckle flower since 52. Favorite Time Period: no idea !! sorry 53: um ,, idk if i have one like honestly i , don't know anything ever tbh you know what's fucked up the only thing u can ever be sure abt in the whole world is your own consciousness and everyone else could be a figment of your imagination and you literally never know so like what's the point of stupid ass crushes what's the meaning of life why are we here what are we doing like we're all just tiny specks of dust in an infinite universe what's our purpose i don't i think i need to go to bed now i'm kind of,, tired but thank you s much @novafirst1 it was v fun i , don't think i'm going t o tag anyone sorryyy but pls do it if u want to !!

[adamthepastryguy]

So my Harry Potter themed  Afternoon Tea  has come and gone. The most immersive and most expensive Tea i have done to date. It took the longest to prepare for the decor and foods and hopefully is the most elaborate to date.

I visited the  Harry Potter Studio tour on Thursday for the 1st time and did pick up some wizarding world items to enhance the Tea for the sweets challenge. The props alone for this Tea have made it the most expensive to date and find how much at the end of the blog.

Just  like the films it takes many people to make it all happen, and would like to thanks my parents and also partner for their help in the decor and filming on the day. It took most of the 2nd half of the week to do the decor, prepare the props and plan, shop and bake/prepare the treats on offer.

The Tea has been in the planning for over a year, but on paper mainly, since i was visiting the Studio Tour the same week i decided to end the week with the Tea.

I searched the internet and many of Pinterest posts for inspiration for  treats and foods to make alongside my original ideas. I have never read the books but seen the films. A lot of the references i found came from the books and small snippets from the movies. I wrote them all down and done a shortlist and came up with my menu. I was happy with all i did but you always want more. I ran out of space on the table  I need a long banquet table !

SETTING THE SCENE

Whilst planning i came up with the name Platform 9 Tea/4 as my backdrop was to be the Hogwarts Express. I already had a trolley from my market stalls so used that with some loaded up luggage to set the scene I wanted a cage for Hedwig but knew it would be a waste getting it for a one off, so found an adorable but expensive Hedwig from Platform 9 3/4 shop online  for £35 originally £45 and the biggest one they make and exclusive to the shop also.  The backdrop came from Ebay as per my others.

I saw the Hogwarts letter pack in Sainsburys and decided to make my own Acceptance letters and also brought a wax sealer online and made 20 to hang on a wall to set the scene further. I made some floating Candles from hot glue and Paper towel holders and tealights and hung from the ceiling. These were all hung with invisible thread so did indeed appear to be floating besides the obvious sellotape mark on the ceiling.

I had the idea also to have Hogwarts on the table  and that came in 3d puzzle form. I was lucky to win 2 auctions on eBay hoping all the pieces were there! it took me 5 days to complete both of them myself and 1 piece was missing. I paired them with my Lego like Harry Potter Mini figures and think they went great together even if the scale is somewhat out lol. I had imagined this in the centre of the table and  cake stands on each end, but was naive and it had to go at the far end of the table but looked good anyway.

  SORTING HAT

I do have one of the original talking sorting Hats but it doesn’t work, i saw Argos had a sale on the new version for £17.49 i got it as they are usually £40+ within a week or so it was back to normal price so glad i got it. I used it as a prop and to sort everyone into their Houses before we begun the Tea.

    THE TEA

I was lucky to get hold of the Harry potter Teapots, 1 from Primark and 1 from eBay( from primark) and the House crest Mugs these were all reasonable compared to most around. I found a Round Marauders map Beach towel ( yes round) i used as a tablecloth with my Black cloth underneath. I knew i wanted a Birdcage cake stand for the Tea and found one on Amazon using my vouchers i got 2 and £30 off. I did not try my plates on it and last minute figured the big plates would not fit, so had to use the side plates as the stand plates and big plates as our plates to eat off

I just had a choice of Loose leaf plain Tea and regular Tea for this Tea.

MUSIC

My Dad is the sound man and he had the Harry Potter Soundtrack from the films playing in the Background which created some ambiance.

  THE FOOD

After gathering references and ideas it took 3 days plus of preparation to make it all happen with all the sweets and savories enough to feed Dumbledoores army!

The savouries

For the Sandwiches i made  Endless Bacon , Corned Beef ( Ron’s least favourite) and Chicken & Ham

Cheese wand Scones

Pumpkin Pasties – These are mentioned as being eaten on the Hogwarts express and no mention of sweet or savoury, a lot of recipes made them Pumpkin Pie type fillings. I saw some savoury i made mine into Curried Pumpkin which were really nice.

Mini Steak Pies

THE SWEET STUFF

Their was endless possibilities for sweet items and i whittled it down to several, haa i still had loads.

Golden Snitch Cake ball Truffles – Sprayed gold and complete with Rice paper wings.

Treacle Tarts – Harry`s favorite apparently who knew?

Hagrids Rock Cakes – A definite improvement on Hagrids version these mini Rock cakes were great.

Harry`s Birthday Cake – I made a small Vegan Chocolate Cake complete with Strawberry Pink icing and a rustic message ” Happee Birthdae Harry” with the crack down the middle.

Lemon Sherbet Eclairs – Filled with Vanilla Cream and topped with Lemon Sherbet icing and crumbled Sherbet sweets dust.

ButterBeer mini Cupcakes – If you have never had Butter beer it is a cross between a cream soda and Butterscotch topped with a cream like top layer. To replicate this i made a Butterscotch flavour sponge topped with Butterscotch buttercream and coloured yellow.

Chocolate Frogs– right from the start on the Train these were a definite to add to the Tea. I made my own in some moulds with Rice Crispies/Coco pops pieces inside. typically they contain a Holographic wizard Cards in their boxes.

Philosophers Scones – Love the name i found online. I topped my Scones with a lightening scar for added effect.

I recorded the Tea live, but much to my horror afterwards found once the tablet fell the sound had cut out after 9 mins!

Luckily my partner had made his own videos and i borrowed them from him allowing the whole thing to be relived in short clips. I always film them via Facebook live and with a new tripods thought this would be okay. Tripod needs sorting out for next time seemed to be top heavy with my tablet resting on it. Happy with the combined footage

SWEETS CHALLENGE

As part of the Tea i wanted to have a Bertie Botts sweet challenge afterwards ( The disgusting flavours) and also take the chance to try some other Harry Potter inspired  Sweets. I got from Universal studios the original Frog and the studio tour here i got the rest of the Honeydukes Sweets and around other places. I looked at reviews of some and picked the ones which got the best scores. Some for what they was i left. I was lucky to get some cheap and discounted in Tkmaxx in a hamper bundle for £5

The sweets i got were

Chocolate Frog in Box – Universal Studios Orlando

Chocolate Frog packs x2 – Chocolate & Puffed Rice Pieces

Fizzing whizzbees

Peppermint Toads

Exploding Bon Bons Orange & Pineapple

Bertie Botts every flavour Bean

Jelly Slugs

Gringotts Chocolate Coins

Lemon Sherbets

 SO HOW WAS THEY?

The Bertie Botts Bean challenge  we picked 3 Beans each and from the reactions we all got mostly disgusting ones. I got Grass and Toothpaste which tasted like deep heat lol. I mixed them in with Bean Boozled which have nice and nasty flavours.

The Chocolate frog in box from the states is Big and fills the box but however is American Chocolate! so could not eat much of that for it is not the best eating Chocolate.

The Puffed Rice Chocolate frog with Cards were also not that great and i could not believe the size of them once opened compared to the size of the packet. Disgraceful for the price.

The Exploding Pineapple & Orange Bonbons in White Chocolate were very nice but not much fizz with the Popping Candy for any of us.

Fizzing whizzbees – I liked the Chocolate shaped like Bees but again not much of a whizz or Fizz, think it must have flown away.

Mint Chocolate Toads – Dark Chocolate and extremely strong Mint taste, okay but a bit overpowering for most of us.

Jelly slugs- various flavours and small little Chewy gummy sweets these were okay.

Gringotts Chocolate Coins – Come in a little sack with an emblem on it, the Chocolate was okay on these a novelty more than anything.

Lemon sherbets – i got these from Tesco they are nice just plain Sherbets

These sweets were interesting to try but expensive for what you get

Fizzing Whizzbees £8

Peppermint Toads £5

Frogs packs £4.50

jelly beans packs £3-4 each

Sherbets – available anywhere  really from £1 or less

Explosing BonBons £8

Jelly Slugs £3-4 a pack

Chocolate frog in Box £8-10

It was an eventful evening and after such a lot of planning it came to an end. I invited my work colleague and friend Sharon to participate in the Tea rather than watch it from fb live. Hope she enjoyed her time on Platform 9 tea/4 and she went home with a goodie bag of treats and souvenirs.

This was the most expensive tea i have done in the 2 years i have been doing this project for fun. it came in at the cost of WAIT FOR IT!  £356.30 

The cost of food was low compared to the Props, Teaware and other  items that made this whole Tea what it was. Of course i have the props and plushies to keep for another time. Some i will sell on the things i do not need to keep. The rest will stay for the return to Hogwarts one day.

  My Platform 9 Tea/4 Harry Potter theme Afternoon Tea – behind the scenes So my Harry Potter themed  Afternoon Tea  has come and gone. The most immersive and most expensive Tea i have done to date.

[mtgsharzad]

GRN Prerelease Notes

WeIt’s been a while since I’ve gone to a prerelease. I think since...BFZ? But with the free Arena sealed voucher and the return to return to Ravnica, Magic’s greatest setting, I schlepped my way to the game store (after swallowing two edibles).  It’s a different store than the one I used to prerelease at. A narrow room is filled with one line of tables and barely enough space on either side of them to walk past. The counter stretches...6 metres? It’s a game store, like many and unlike many others. I showed up 3 minutes late and all the non-Izzet prerelease packs have been taken. Not much of a choice, izzet? God, kill me. I get a promo Firemind’s Insight and a really conflicted Sealed pool. I have three Selesnya rares, a Steam Vents, an Assassin’s Trophy (which I’m going to trade away) and the new 1R growing elemental guy.  I have, like, no playable creatures, and end up reaching for two copies of Muse Drake just to be able to play more than 8 battle dumplings. I built into a grixis fliers/midrange deck, mostly anchored around my copious removal and my UUBB guy.  I always forget how long we’re allowed for deckbuilding at these events. I’m usually a quick deckbuilder, but the drugs kick in and I find myself looking at the same 25 possible includes for a straight 15 minutes. I cut my second copy of the 1UB enchantment and grab basics, and proceed to have a really pleasant conversation with the guy diagonal from me about Legacy Pox. What a beautiful deck! He confessed to running the 1-of granddaddy Pox, as well as 4 Sinkhole, 4 Wasteland, 4 Smallpox, etc. Gotta love a man who plays the 1-of. He said he plays Percy as a finisher though, instead of the Nether Shadow recursion/beats strat - “make a percy, swing three times, you’re dead”, he explains. Sounds interesting! Round one. I’m up against a friendly Asian guy in his late 20s. He’s on BUG, and we have a good back-and-forth, but I take the series 2-1. Nothing really memorable or exceptional here; just some good old fashioned Sealed gameplay. I take game 3 with a reasonably-thrilling combo kill out of nohwere with Wee Dragonauts buffs and 6 points of burn going dome. Really great games, I say, and he agrees. I report the match win to the store owner, who I think gives me a little wink of approval. Who is this strange newcomer, who can win her first game? I imagine he’s saying. She must be a powerful sorceress. Round two. I deckbuilt across from this guy, so I know that he’s on Naya and has a foil Trostani (jealous). He had a bye R1, so I’m nervous, but I pretend I didn’t know this when he explains it to me. “So, you feeling good, then?” I ask, and he replies with something that’s music to my ears: He’s a total scrub! He has no idea how to play Magic, and is “usually the worst guy in the room”. I’m about 5% wary of some kind of hustle, but I don’t think I’m being hustled; this guy is earnest about how bad he is at Magic, so let’s just have some fun games! In game 1, I keep a risky hand with UR mana and two B spells. I never find a Swamp, and Sammy Scrub over here just develops a board and beats me down.  The whole time, he’s table talking nervously about how this is the best it ever goes for him, and this is probably the best he’ll do all day. A turn before I’d die, I say gg and flop the hand, which now has 4 B spells and still no B mana.  ”That explains a lot”, he says. In game 2, I take a dicy mull to 4 looking for lands. I’m sitting on Swamp, new Rupture Spire, Dinrova Horror, Goblin Cratermaker, which is at least an all-stars version of my shitty, shitty deck. I manage to do some nice stack trickery with Cratermaker that fizzles one of his Auras. After clarifying the difference between Auras and Equipment, I take game 2 easily. 

This seems like an apt point to take a moment to take a personal stand: I hate the way he taps his mana. He keeps all his lands in a single pile, behind his library (and therefore more or less underneath his arm from my viewpoint). This game, he did this thing where he’d hold up 3 mana for like 4 turns, and I’d have to keep clarifying that he had mana up, with him even doing things like casting a Worldsoul Colossus with X=2 so he could hold up mana (I Dead Weighted it. 😭Brutal😭). Turns out he was holding onto a Plummet effect; when I slammed the Dinrova Horror, he said “oh, that has flying, right?” and tried to kill it. Damn, sorry dude, but it also has Hexproof... Anyway. The experience of playing against multiple people with really incoherent mana presentation made me resolve to be even better about my own land display. It’s something Magic Arena couldn’t possibly have reminded me about; the messiness and personal flair that goes into the way each player taps, plays, and manipulates their cards, all outside of the game itself.  Game 3 also comes down to some board stall where I blunted his early assault and stabilized with Wee Dragonauts. Once I hit 6 mana I did the 4UR split card spell to search for an instant (the jumpstart draw 2) and a sorcery (the 3bb murder surveil 2). That was my endgame value chain, and he just couldn’t beat it. I played really forgivingly and walked him through my understandings of several combats in a way that I think made him a more equitable opponent to me, and so for that reason I think we had some really captivating fun games. I really liked this guy, and I hope he did well after we fought. We go to turns, so my idea to buy pizza before R3 is tragically dashed on the rocks. I still haven’t eaten (always take pills on an empty stomach, kids), and I’m starting to feel it.

 My opponent this round is a happy looking fat kid, who the entrenched player cracking a box to my left apparently mentored in Magic’s rules. The moment we square up I realize he’s a “Real Opponent” in a way the round 2 guy simply wasn’t; he does the pro player card shuffling tic, announces every trigger, and his cards make the loud SLICK SLICK SLACK of a player who knows exactly which card he’s putting where, and who intends to waste no time doing so.

We both mull to 6. “Ooh, hope you didn’t keep a fast one, or I might need to go to 5″, I tease. He tells me he kept a fast one, I stay on 6, and true to his word, he grizzly bears me into the dust by turn 6. Brutal! I mire in self-abnegation. You IDIOT, I think. He said it was a fast one, I castigate. Oops! This is not the mindset of a champion. I reset quickly for game two. At this point we’re comfortable enough in the dance, two mature players (one a child) with cleanly-laid-out mana and creatures and full understanding of the Stack, and we’re bullshitting and talking Modern while we play. It’s a joyous experience, the best time I’ve had playing paper Magic recently. I take game 2 pretty cleanly when he’s stuck on two lands, and the land clump he hits on turn 5 is too little too late, even though he slams a locket as soon as he can play it. I misplay a little by forgetting some of his announced triggers during combat, and get a 1-for-1 on my Dinrova Horror instead of the 2-for-1 I’d planned on. Oops! I win handily, though.  In game 3 I kept a risky 6 - 5 lands and a two-drop. I draw more lands and just can’t spend gas fast enough to keep up, and he curves me into the dust with his efficient little battle dumplings. RIP, really great games. The thrill of combat and the hot copper taste of blood (I think I bit my cheek accidentally?) fill my veins.  In the pizza meta selection subgame, I walk in the door thinking Potato, but audibled to Feta and Sundried Tomatoes because I heard Boros had good chances against the field. 

I walk back down the street to the LGS. The pizza did what it needed to and has loosened the feelings of self-doubt that come with your first tournament loss of the day. I am a champion. I am a queen. I’m beautiful. I visualize myself going 3-1.  My opponent for the fourth and final round is another teen, but he’s way worse than the cute friendly pro-to-be. He’s really soft-spoken, which wouldn’t be a problem but Putative Pro is the other match on this table and he and I are still occasionally shooting the shit, much to Surly Kid’s annoyance. Sorry, dog! I would normally use your turns to plan strategy or whatever, but he takes such ponderous long turns I feel like I have no choice. He’s moaning that he’s had to mull to 5 5 times already. My heart goes out to the kid, but maybe he should learn to trust in the heart of the cards!~ He’s built a pretty solid GWr aggro deck, lots of lifegain and Mentor effects. Exactly the kind of deck I’m not built to answer! But it turns out that spot removal works okay against mentor if you can keep them from having two guys attack on any given turn. I bleed out before I can stabilize game 1, though.  Game 2 I barely remember also, but I think I had a solid early curve and managed to discard his 1 answer in-hand. Hard to complain about that!

Game 3. Game 3 is scary. We both mull to 5 and have shaky starts. He hits me with early pressure and takes me down to like 5 real early, while I’ve managed to chip him down to like 16. FIVE TURNS, comes the booming announcement. Oh shit, I think. I have to take this. A 3-1 finish is so close, I can taste it. I end up stacking Wee Dragonauts and Electrostatic Wall triggers to find exact lethal on my last of the 5 extra turns. It’s incredibly, viscerally, beautifully satisfying. I feel electric, triumphant, and exultatory. This is my apotheosis. 

I win...three packs! Oops. The kid who beat me in R3 came first (satisfying to only lose to the winner), but because of the byes, someone has a 3-0-1 record, and they get the 6 packs due to second. Still, it’s a delight to place. TRADES:  traded away my Assassin’s Trophy for a K Command, new Niv, some cube cards / foils and some pocket change.