#goddamm that was a while ago

[theprenderelliepalace]

Damon Salvatore x fem!reader

Perception

Summary: Y/N drops some books off at the Salvatore residence, she expects to find trouble, being the odd one out and everything, she doesn't expect his name to be Damon Salvatore.

Warnings: For mature Audiences, themes of assault, drunk Damon (well isn't that new? Said no one ever.), uh, does a 'takes no shit' !reader count as a trigger?, Elena being a mysterious plot point

Words: 1.7k

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I watched Elena Gilbert make this weird expression at me... Caroline was saying something stupid, Bonnie was arguing with that judgemental gleam in her hazel eyes, but what caught my attention, was that foreboding purse of Elena's lips. The furrow of her flawless brow, the way her eyes sparked with something that scared me. It was almost hidden, she smiled wryly in my direction. Her eyes like daggers that penetrated my skull, it made me shiver; as I felt like I had been stripped bare of anything that belonged to me in that moment. Any ground or loyalty I had in our friend-group, I knew was gone, with the flick of Elena's hair behind her shoulder- my other friends hadn't even realised yet, but they would. Come morning I would be a stranger, even to my closest friends since kindergarten. I would be on the fringe of everything I used to know.

I was 12 when I stopped hanging out with the most popular girls in Mystic Falls. Strangley, I never regretted that day. What I had seen in my closest friend, that unexplainable glint about her that still gave me nightmares, had opened my eyes to something dark in the shitty little town I'd spent my entire life in. I said I'd never regretted that day, that was until the vampires came...

~~~~~

"Yes Care, i will be there before dark." I pinched the bridge of my nose, willing the annoying voice on the other end of the line to go bother someone else. "No, I did not tell Stefan." I responded dryly. Elena was in danger, yet again. Klaus was on the prowl, for the daggers, for Elena's blood, for all of us... And Caroline was bugging me about my communication skills. "Well seeing as I'm dropping these old spellbooks for Bonnie at the boarding house, I figure, 'Hey, why not kill two vampires with one study session from hell." I groaned internally as Caroline got heated over the phone. I slammed the back door to my dad's old Toyota corolla, opening the drivers side and collapsing into the leather seat. "Then take it up with someone who cares Caroline. Sorry, I'm driving through a tunnel, on an airplane, while hanging up the phone."

I can't even remember what I did with my phone, all I know is that I started my engine and reversed out of my driveway, heading for the outskirts of the town and towards the infamous Salvatore residence.

It had been 4 goddamm years since I called those girls my friends. I had seen an entire 'nother leap year, in the time it took for these bitches to deem me useful. I travled with my mom, Rome, Paris, India, Africa. I would've gotten my high-school diploma six months ago, if I hadn't had to move back to this ancient cesspool of a town.

And don't misunderstand me, that is the time it took for my life to go to crap. Vampires, the Salvatore Brothers, Elena... I shuddered in my seat, clenching my hands around the wheel as I thought about her.

I was so lost in my thoughts, that I jumped when I reached the boarding house. It was tall and looming, with an ominous darkness catching the corner of my eye. I sighed as I parked, readying myself for the chaos of the two people I despised more than Mystic High's Queen Bee. You see, in the last 6 months I had discovered something about myself, I was perceptive. Yes, I have always been a little more aware than perhaps usual, but it was more than that. I was something supernatural, I didn't know what but I did know that I could see magic, hear a vampires nearly imperceptible heartbeat and feel the forces of nature that others couldn't even dream about.

It was strange, knowing you could see other people when they never expected to be seen at all. I could read their faces, know their tells, pick apart their lies. It was why I was suddenly on the Mystic Falls supernatural hit-teams most wanted list. I could see. I scoffed as I pulled the back door of my car open. Heaving the heavy books into my arms, shifing my weight into my lower back as I ambled up the porch steps to the front door. If all these people needed me for was my sight, then these assholes should really get their eyes checked.

The door was already open, I ducked in sideways, trying to keep my balance while toppling books inched out of my grip. "Let me take those off your hands." I audibly groaned, the voice that assaulted my ears was silky smooth, like fine wine pouring into my ears.

"Damon, look what the bat dragged in." I couldn't see him over the pile of scripts and dusty memoirs of old witches, but I could hear his stupid smirk as he took the pile away from me.

"Still as snarky as ever Y/N. Didn't your mummy ever teach you to be nice to charming men who carry your books?" Anyone else wouldn't have noticed the foe-disdain in his voice, or the slight quicking pace in his pulse, of course, I'm not anyone else.

"Oh! That's what the karate classes were for." I looked at him now, this tall,brooding, Greek God of a man was attracted to me. Stupid I know. That's what I thought too, but I've never been wrong. Especially not since I came into my powers. Normally I would take the shot, go for it, but I had no chance. He was in love with his brothers girlfriend, a stupider decision if you ask me.

"Glad I've only ever seen you in action once or twice then." He smirked. I walked past him and into the living room. The fire was roaring, as I often found it was when Damon was alone on a Thrusday through Sunday afternoon. Where he was the rest of the time, I hadn't had the stomach to ask. I laughed unconvincingly.

"Didn't I almost shoot you in the face when you first tried to use me as a human pincushion?" He set the books down with a thud on the ornate coffee table. I set mine down with a far greater deal of grace. He frowned at me.

"Details, details. Besides," He took a step towards me, he smelled like alcohol and something else..."the way to a vampire, is always through his heart." He grabbed my hand, gently at first, clinging onto it as I tried to pull away. He made me touch his chest, it was firm and rising jaggedly with air he didn't need.

I glared at him. "You're drunk. Go leech on something else," i paused "leech." He laughed, it sent shivers down my spine, his eyes were deadly and cold. He pulled me flush against him. I wasn't unused to this radical "Damon Behavior", but there was something wild about his eyes. Something needy. To be honest, maybe I was needy too.

"Someone should teach you manners little lady." Or maybe not. I timed it perfectly, jutting my elbow out from between us into his diaphragm, he caught my arm, blocking it and shifting my upper body to the right. His lips found my ear, his breath tickled as he whispered into my hair. "One day that mouth of yours will bite off more than those pretty little lips can chew.

"Someone should teach you the modern cure for the insufferable womanizer." I spat. Then suddenly- I was on the couch, the fire crackled so loudly in my ears I thought my head would explode. Damon was leaning over me. His ebony hair feathered against his forehead, his lips were inches from mine, our breath mingled into each other. I felt his body become hotter above me, it was almost startling compared to his cool demeanor at the door. "Damon, please. Use at least one brain cell to think about this stupid decision you're making-"

He cut me off, "See that's the thing Y/N, you talk to me with that foul little mouth of yours and think it's okay. No one talks to me like that." For the first time in an agonizing ten minutes he looked away from me. "I never let anyone talk to me like that. But its like this-" if we had been having this conversation like normal people, I would've smiled at the hint of Italian in his accent. "I do let you. You drive me crazy. I hate you for that."

I tensed. "Well people who hate each other don't treat one another like this. So one of us is lying." I don't know if I knew who was lying to themselves between the both of us, but maybe that would give me enough of a chance to distract him and then-

And then he was kissing me. It was deep and firey. He moaned against my lips as he parted them with his tongue, his grip around my waist tightened as he explored my mouth. It all happened so quickly, I barely began to understand what was happening before "I don't like lying Y/N."

What the hell was that?

He bolted away from me and was on the other side of the room so fast he was only a blur. He started to say something, probably to shout at me in his drunken stupor, but I was quicker- "Did you say that out-loud?" I asked, I was breathless and disgusted and fascinated all in the span of 5 seconds.

He made a face at me. "The hell, "did I say that?" He mocked my question,he was agitated, borderline disbelieving. "I was in the middle of kissing you, moron. I did not say that. What the hell did you do?" He held his arms close to his chest, obviously he felt as violated as I did. I scowled at him.

"Then, moron, did you think it?" He looked at me with big, blue, question- filled eyes.

"I-"

"Y/N?" Shit, Bonnie, i glanced to the door. I turned back to the fireplace and the leather-clad, bad boy vampire was gone. I pinched the bridge of my nose... worst timing ever Bonnie Bennet...

What the hell just happened?

☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆

Ta-da! Ooo la, la... I'm a sucker (haha, get it?) for mystery and suspense.

Did you like the little nudge towards something Elena related, without having to deal with like, Elena..?

But chill, there will be a little bit of everything for all you shippers.

I don't know where I'm going to take this story yet, so feel free to Ask, or request or whatever and maybe things will turn in your favour... :0

Read pt 2 here: Read part 3 here:

Masterlist

[bagelbright-tok]

Stayin' Alive

Used 'Too many beds,' from the "reverse tropes," as a prompt for this fic.

After the events of N'Doul, you stay with Kakyoin at the hospital, waiting for the rest of the group to come. While being led to the room Kakyoin would be staying in, instead of an empty room, you see... mattresses? Watch out! An enemy appears with a power able to rival your own!

JJBA x fem!reader, TW: Swearing, mentions of death, a dead body, mentions of blood, fighting

Word Count: 2,156

'Text' = thoughts, "Text" = music

__________

No Time To Talk

_____

"Egypt!?"

You knew you should have denied when this teen and his grandpa began raving about a hundred year old vampire who was killing the teen's mom spiritually. Of course, with the context of Stands, you were more willing to believe them; Joseph Joestar, Jotaro Kujo, Noriaki Kakyoin, Muhammed Abdul, and Jean-Pierre Polnareff.

You were in the same boat as Kakyoin-- no commitment other than to Jotaro's mom, a stranger. While you knew the trip would be life threatening-- you weren't expecting a grave example.

The Emperor and Hanged Man. At first, you played your part. Minded your own business, even managed to tune out Polnareff's and Abdul's argument. You'd barely met them; you didn't want anything to do with their drama.

The whole day became one moment. You, Mr. Joestar, and Kujo stared down at Abdul's dead body. You couldn't help but feel a rattling terror and chill. You'd just met this man in Singapore, and now he was dead. Kakyoin and Polnareff were nowhere in sight.

"What--? What do we do?" You shutter.

No one said anything. Not a noise slipped out.

That day was a while ago. You still think of it-- or, well, it haunts you. Your encounter with N'Doul was arguably also terrifying. Another Stand reliant on sound? Not to mention the useless dog the team acquired. Your headphones were destroyed in that battle-- truly the biggest lost to you.

It did save you, though, temporarily.

All of this runs through your head before a doctor approaches. "Miss [L/N]?" You look up. "We are placing Mr. Kakyoin in his room. Please follow me,"

You stand and follow the moving MD. Your mind is still in a static. "Is he okay?"

"Yes, the main damage was fortunately done to his eyelids rather than his eyeballs." The doctor stuffed his hands in his pockets. "Still, there was some damage, and his eyes need to heal."

"Hey, I'm a big fan of it not being as bad as it could have been," you exhale. "How long will it take?"

You begin to see two nurses rolling a bed towards you and the doctor. It seems you are meeting Kakyoin at his room. "We estimate around two weeks,"

"Shit, two?" You look to the doctor. "That's a long time."

"Optimal for healing,"

The doctor stopped with the bed next to the door. As the doctor opened it, the bed was reoriented to fit through the door. You entered.

"What the fuck?" Bed upon beds upon beds. The room is littered with them. "Is this a storage room or what?"

"Ehm..." The doctor is also looking around the room, confused. "N-no! This is.. this is supposed to be Mr. Kakyoin's room! The key is only for this room,"

You snatch the key. "Let me see that!" You turn and compare the number on the key to the one on the door. "Doc, someone's gotta be fuckin' with you! Why are there so many goddamm beds!?" You throw the key back at the man, growing more frustrated.

"To use against you, [Y/N]~!" A voice echoed from within the beds.

You shoot your head around. "Seriously?" you groan. "Can we not get a day off?" The static was ringing now.

"Your Stand is formidable, I hear," the voice coo'd. "I was beyond elated to have been assigned to handle you and Noriaki!" The doctor was yelling in fear, backing out of the "bed" room.

"Yeah? I can tell by the way you talk, you're overcompensating," You scoff at them. "Why don't you show yourself and see how 'formidable' my Stand is!" You point at the beds, challenging the user.

"Oh, please, as much as I would love to, I also enjoy living." The voice laughed, the source being thrown around the room. "First, the battlegrounds should be in my favour!"

A loud thwap echoed around the room as each and every mattress slapped themselves against the walls of the room. One even managing to slam the door behind you. You look around, now spotting the source of the comments and mattresses.

"Cushioning the walls?" You fold your arms. "I'm guessing so when I beat you, you won't hit them so hard?"

"Don't you hear the difference already, [Y/N]?" They tapped on their ears. "I've made the room sound-proof. The noise we make doesn't bounce back, or echo-- and no noise can get in." They smiled widely.

Your eyes widened. "S-so what?" You stutter, pointing a sharp finger at them.

"So what?" They laughed loudly. "Your Stand, Ace's Wand, is entirely reliant on noises and your feelings. I also know, you don't do well without your music, so-!" They spread their arms out defiantly. "-I have made you your own personal Hell!"

"Shit," you mutter. "So what's your power? Mattress making and manipulation?"

"My Stand is Knave! It's a bit more intricate than that," they explained. "I can create objects from nothing and manipulate them as I please. Mattresses were simply the most inconspicuous object for me to make and plaster."

"Inconspicuous?" You doubted

"It got you in here, didn't it?"

"...Touché."

"Enough talk!" The Knave's wielder yelled, a sparkling object beginning to form in their hand. They launched it towards you before it was fully created.

You gasp, rolling out of the way of the brick hurdling towards you. "Ha!" You taunt, perhaps too early. "ACK--!" A strong heavy force smashes into the back of your head. The brick finally crumbled and seemingly vanished.

"Did you forget the part where I can manipulate what I create?" They snickered, another object beginning to form in their hand.

You groan from the ground, holding your bleeding head. Your vision hurts and blurs, but you're coherent enough to be pissed.

'With enough blows like that, I will forget!' You think to yourself. 'I have to try and use my Stand-- even if it'll be hard to control without music!'

You begin to stand, shakily. Another brick hurdles towards you-- this time you duck down. You summon your Ace's Wand-- partially. You hear the brick change trajectory towards you again. Waiting for the last second, you twist out of the way, allowing the brick to instead smash into the ground.

"Using your Ace to hear my moves, eh?" They hummed. "They may not do as much damage, but perhaps quieter objects will do!"

"Fuck you!" You sprint towards the enemy, almost tripping. You raise a confident fist and throw it towards them. You see them try to raise an arm in defense, but they're too slow.

Your knuckles collide into their face-- you can feel their skin wrap around your hand. With the combination of your Stand, the enemy is launched backward into a mattress.

You breathe heavily, wiping your bloody fist onto your pants. The enemy groans in pain. "I--I think--! I think I'll be better off, out of sight as well..."

"What?"

You can only watch in horror as the enemy slowly melts into the mattress, becoming one with it. 'I need to get some fuckin' music in here, fast!' Your thoughts are all you're left with along with the eerie silence now encasing the room.

You take steps to look around the room, waiting for the next attack. 'Knave creating objects doesn't have a noise.' You spin at the disturbance of air behind you. 'Throwing them rips the air-- but that same sound could be Knave coming out of a mattress... they're too similar sounding!' A flat pane of glass is already too close to you and shatters into your face.

You scream, "AUUGGH--!" the shards digging in and causing you to stumble back. 'Shit! They know what they're doing! Sending things I would hear too late to dodge!' You hover your hands over your face, trying not to touch it.

A small ring alerts you again. You shift to left and watch as a long needle of glass flies by into the wall, shattering into the mattress and disappearing. 'T-too close!' You try to think of a plan while avoiding as many of the glass knives and needles as you can.

You don't avoid them all, though. One needle tears itself through your left shoulder-- another one through the same arm. A ceiling attack rockets a needle and it embeds itself nicely into your right foot, which gives Knave the opportunity to shoot knives straight into your legs. You wail in pain and lay on the ground as comfortably as you can. There was a lot of glass in a lot of your body.

You hear the laughing of the enemy. He reappears and stands above your bloodied form. "It's hard to believe that you, the great [Y/N] [L/N], managed to defeat Yellow Temperance," they stated sarcastically. "You were clearly just lucky."

You shake your head. "I'm-- I'm not lucky," you groaned. "Luck doesn't-- augh--! Luck doesn't win battles!" You smile widely, revealing your blood stained teeth.

The enemy stares down in disgust and horror. "What does that mean!?" Now they're on high alert, looking around the room. "You have your Stand summoned! Where is it!?"

You begin to laugh finally. A loud ringing causes the Knave wielder to look up. A gaping hole in one of the mattresses reveals an intercom. "What!?" They scream, reaching up quickly.

A noise begins to emit from it, though, and the moment it does, the enemy is slammed into the ground. "Well, you can tell by the way I use my walk / I'm a woman's man, no time to talk," Now you hover above the enemy, your Stand taking on a horrifying, yet controlled, appearance.

"You are right, my Stand does rely on music," you explain. "However, my Stand isn't a short-range. It can travel up to 100 metres."

"N-no way!" The enemy cried, your Stand beginning to crush them. "Y-you were using your Stand to dodge my attacks! You couldn't have-- have used it to put music on!"

"Wrong, and correct," you smile. "I wasn't using Ace to dodge, but if I were, I definitely wouldn't have been able to put music on."

"The New York Times' effect on man,"

You begin to bob to the music. "Whether you're a brother or whether you're a mother, / You're stayin' alive, stayin' alive!"

You turn around and walk away, tuning into the music as the enemy begins to scream in pain. The sounds of shredding and crunching are muted to you.

"Ah, ha, ha, ha, stayin' alive, stayin' alive!"

The mattresses disappear as you arrive at the door. "Ah, ha, ha, ha, stayin' alive!" You open the door, the doctor and nurse standing next to Kakyoin's bed in fear.

When they look into the room, there is nothing but the dents and the splatters of blood on the floor. The Bee Gee's echo through the entire building.

"Hey, uh," you begin. "When you're done with Kakyoin, do you think you could take a look at me, doc?"

You remember the doctor nodding frantically, darkness, and then waking up in a hospital bed two metres away from Kakyoin's.

"Damn,"

***

"Oh my god!" Joseph exclaimed at you. "I didn't think a Stand user would actually attack at a hospital! Those workers of DIO really are downright diabolical!"

"Kakyoin is the most vulnerable," Jean-Pierre pointed out. "It makes sense they would want to take advantage of that and try to get him while he's down."

"I'm more surprised they were able to clock my flaws so fast," you hum quietly.

"Oh." Jotaro noised as he rummaged around his pockets for a moment. "I found a store that sold these things. It looked like the one you had before."

Jotaro reveals a pair of headphones. You widen your eyes and snatch them giddily. "They're exactly like them!" You excitedly announce. "Thank you! God, it's been Hell without my music!"

You immediately pull out your Walkman, pop a tape in, connect the headphones, and play your music. You leave one headphone on while the other rests on your head so you can still hear the team.

"All the pairs of headphones we tried to get you as replacements," Joseph began his complaint, "And all you wanted were your old ones!? I paid a lot of money to get those brand new, top-quality ones the other day!"

"I like my old ones," you shrug. "I don't like how the new ones feel on my head or ears."

You put the headphones on completely, now unable to hear Joseph and his frustrated and annoyed rant about your pickiness. You bob your head to the music and even close your eyes so as to avoid his angry hand signs.

"Music loud and women warm / I've been kicked around since I was born / And now it's all right, it's okay,"

"And we're stayin' alive, stayin' alive / Ah, ha, ha, ha, stayin' alive!"

______

E N D

--

It's been like, two? Years? Damn. Anyways, this is a continuation of my fic, Take Me to Funkytown! It has been a while since I have written for JJBA, and I am still not very good at writing fight scenes, so I hope you lot are able to enjoy this! Shout out to @cheesencrackersinprison for commenting on my Funkytown fic. It was actually the greatest motivation for me to write this.

[im-having-a-gender-crisis]

I'm officially 6 months on T!!!

Here's a list of changes I've noticed so far:

My voice dropped over an octave

^ also, I can somewhat comfortably hit the notes in Speakeasy by Alex Ernest if you want to both listen to a good song and also understand the range I have acquired

Muscle mass. Bro i am so strong

My food cravings have changed completely. Id thrive on a 100% carnivor diet istg

My body hair has gotten darker and thicker, especially around the areas I've been taking my shots

Ass hair

My body odor has changed significantly

Finally getting a fucking jaw line let's fucking gooooooo

Adam's apple!!!!

I have not cried in 5 months

My last legit period was 4 months ago (I've spotted a couple times, but it was so light I went through a max of 2 pads per cycle)

Bottom growth?? More like biggest shlong in existence (this is a joke unfortunately 😔 he's just a little guy)

Facial hair! I have to shave every day cause I'm somehow still in the closet at work

My libido fuckin. rose from the dead or some shit. Still aroace, but goddamm smh

My body shape has changed. Broader shoulders, less hourglass. Still got a massive dumpy and thick ass thighs tho so don't worry 🫡

My confidence is at record breaking heights rn guys

I've been clocked (in a positive way(ie. people asking me my pronouns)) multiple times while at work cause a dude bro with a deep voice and massive tits is kind of a giveaway not even gonna lie

[thou-babbling-brook]

HEY I WATCHED MAGNIFICENT CENTURY EP 1

this whole thing looked super similar to another turkish serial about the ottoman empire i used to watch with my mom when i was younger and i thought it may have been this?? but i couldnt find anything saying it was so i was talking with my mom and yknow turkish serials here in bulgaria air with bulgarian voice over as well so we didnt know the turkish name for the show,, so i was talking with her and i was like "yeah ive been meaning to watch this serial idk if its the same one we watched tho. its directly translated as velikolepnia vek in bulgarian but idk do you think its the same one?" and she fucking GASPED and was like "ITS THE ONE!! ITS SULTAN SULEYMAN!!"

so yeah long story short turns out i have indeed watched a good number of eps of magnificent century a while ago! but i barely remember anything so im very happy to be rewatching it hehehehe

idk why i rambled for so long im sorry also you were so right about it being very dramatic like dont get me wrong im used to it ive watched many turkish serials but goddamm

anyway yeah this is becoming too long bye

THAT’S AMAZING!!! I love your mom’s reaction about it omg that’s fucking hilarious BUT I SO HOPE YOU ENJOY THE SHOW!! It’s so overly dramatic I love it definitely slide into my DMs to talk about it bc I absolutely love it!!!

[aceyanaheim]

Dream Daddy Head-canons No One Asked For.

It’s Hurricane Time and I got bored. ( Keep in mind I’m still finishing the game) 

Robert’s been to jail before, misdemeanors and petty crime.

After getting bailed out he was made to work at the shelter with Mary and Damian.

His first reaction to seeing a shih-tzu was to shake it repeatedly because “What the fuck? Is this a dog or a rat?”

Damian had a talk with him about different breeds and “please refrain from shaking the living creatures in this facility, especially the small ones. We..kind of need them alive.”

That’s actually where he got Betsy. For all his hangups about smaller dogs who “don’t look like dogs” Robert wound up turning into a marshmallow around them.

Mary may or may not have arranged for him to adopt Betsy after seeing how good the volunteering did for Robert ( he drank and smoked less, tried to show up on time, he was always happy around the dogs)

She kinda wishes she had given him a bigger dog when the first thing Robert did was try to hunt for cryptids in the dead of the goddamn night. (Betsy’s a tough pup though. She does okay at keeping her human safe.)

Brian makes lasagna for Daisy every first day of school ( it’s her favorite dish)

Both Brian and Joseph have very...open reactions to anyone who suggests parents with Neuroatypical kids are burdened or need a support group.

They might or might not have egged the car of the last person who said that.

Brian and Daisy go on a camping trip the week before school starts every year.

Daisy’s first fishing rod was this tiny pink for-toddlers-rod that she still keeps to this day.

Amanda tutors Daisy in Social Studies, Daisy ends up helping her with English. ( that kid is smart) 

Lucien has the best English grade in Hugo’s junior class.

No one but Mary knows that it’s because when he was little he and Damien would have readings of Victorian novels.

Sometimes Mary and her kids would come along.

Lucien actually winds up babysitting the Christiansen kids a lot.

It is entirely possible that he’s the one who taught them to amp up the creepy twin factor to keep bullies away.

It is also entirely possible he makes sure he scares off the ones that the twins don’t creep out.

Not that he’ll ever fess up to it.

Christopher's middle name is Robin ( because Mary couldn’t resist)

Christian and Christie’s middle names are Matthew and Ruth respectively.

Mary and Joseph may or may not have been trying to outdo each other on who could come up with the most religious name.

Mary’s still not sure how much morphine she was on that she allowed that but she’s decided her kids just need enough confidence to carry the -slightly ridiculous- names.

Crish lucked out -sorta?- and didn’t get an uber religious name.

Chris spends a lot of time with Crish while the twins wander off. He almost prefers to hang out with his baby sibling over anyone else.

Carmencita and Ernest switch to Spanish at near every social gathering and it drives everyone up the wall.

Robert always eggs them on, he likes the chaos.

Robert also refuses to tell just where the hell he learned Spanish “it’s classified”

Robert has G.A.D. which he self-medicates for both by drinking and smoking

The dads have actually talked about getting him to quit because “Jesus Robert you’re not even like a chill stoned person. You get outright paranoid.”

Having Betsy helps him with it a lot. He has to keep things away from her so she won’t get into them and sometimes it leads to him even forgetting he has it.

Robert has a weird rule about smoking in front of the kids. He just won’t.

Lucien finds this hilarious and kind of annoying because “I’m your provider!”

“Well yeah but you’re still a kid”

Daisy learned to read when she was four. Brian found her hoarding t.v. manuals and car magazines and fishing books and..basically if it had letters in it she had it in her room.

She at one point made a fort out of them. He still has the pictures.

Chris scripts and stims a lot. He usually sings songs he hears on the radio and rocks on his feet. He’ll occasionally repeat lines from his favorite movies.

The real reason the twins were quoting The Shining was they grew up around Chris scripting and...also started talking in t.v. quotes ( since to them it just looked like A Thing Chris was doing)

The three of them can actually speak to each other in t.v. quotes and understand each other completely. ( everyone else, however, is clueless. No one’s figured out how to get them to stop. Robert also thinks this is hilarious.)

No one can figure out if it’s better or worse than Ernest and Carmencita's  bilingual shtick.

Both Hugo and Mat slip into Spanish from time to time.

Hugo has family in the Dominican Republic and P.R. but also in New York. ( it’s where his parents emigrated to)

Ernest actually really doesn’t like his name.

He went up to his dad once with a two-page long list of Hispanic Authors and asked why he couldn’t be named after one of those.

Hugo and went on to answer that he had family members named Usnavi and Usmail and Hugo’s middle name was Valentino and “honestly, just count your blessings-no you’re not drinking coffee.”

He was secretly really impressed because damn these were good authors and his kid knew about them? Since when? ( why isn’t he getting better grades?)

Craig spent a good amount after college just...drifting. He went there because he was told to and didn’t really find his drive for doing something until much later in life.

Because of that he kinda gets Robert. He can tell he’s kinda lost too.

Lucien used to have a baby cape.

He still dresses up in Victorian clothes for his dad’s birthday and special occasions.

A lot of conversations about media analysis between Mat and Hugo usually wind up with their kids weighing in.

Ernest tends to take Mat’s side just to be contrarian but he’s learned a lot about his dad from listening to his side of the conversations.

Mary has a favorite dog at the shelter. It’s this scraggly looking greyhound mix she named Stella.

Damian’s the only one who knows, she’s sworn him to secrecy.

She’s that volunteer that checks out all adoptees and flirts her way into convinces people to take “risky” cases home.

Damian wants to be mad but...well it’s not like it doesn’t work. He hates that they can’t use a kill-free policy, with Mary terrifying everyone they kinda do.

Damian Mary and Joseph all go way back. They met a youth service.

Mary was notorious for getting into and starting fights back then.  She had opinions on how Christianity saw a lot of things and no actual fucks to give about arguing with teachers and preachers and other students alike.

She usually wound up kicked out of Youth Ministry/Religion Class ten minutes in. You could set your time by it.

“Oh nooo now I get to do whatever the damn hell I want for thirty minutes whatever will I do with myself”

If Damian hadn’t been there, no one’s sure how long she-or the church would have lasted.

Mary was that Christian girl. The one that rebels hard and parties harder. The church was small, and every knew and talked about what she did and who she did it with and it made her smile.

When Damien started transitioning anyone from the Youth Group who so much as looked at him crooked inherently made things physical. ( but damn if Mary didn’t scare everyone just by looking at them. )

That’s where Joseph meets her. Joseph, who looked the part of the rebel, with black leather and piercings but whose biggest act of rebellion itself is sneaking rock music past his Very Christian Parents.

Mary takes one look at him trying to be “bad” and nearly bursts out laughing all the same feeling fondness for the kid. She figures if she doesn’t keep an eye on this dork, someone’s gonna eat him. 

Friendships can come from a lot less.

It’s the softness in Joseph that really gets to Mary, the same softness she found in Damian. It’s the fact that he refuses to judge her, it’s the fact that he nearly bursts out laughing at every argument she starts with other people. That’s where the friendship’s really born. That’s when she starts trusting him. By the end of the year, he’s as close to her as Damian. ( and she’s just as willing to tear people apart for him)

There’s a lot of conflicts and tears for the three of them on their orientations ( because no, Mary isn’t straight either) and their religion and their faith and those who share it. There were nights spent at couches where Mary couldn’t stand to be with her parents and long silent months were Joseph just went radio silent. ( Damian’s parents were actually hella accepting and the main crashing place but Damian had things to deal with too)

It’s what made Joseph want to be a Youth Pastor. He wanted a church that was friendly, he wanted to keep his faith. He wanted to keep other children from not feeling safe in a place where you’re supposed to. He wanted to tell kids that things always get better. He signed up for a degree in Biblical Studies the moment he was able to.

They moved to the same neighborhood on purpose, the three of them ( and Lucien eventually) like it always was.

Mary started dealing with depression after having Chris.

A big contributing factor was that Joseph had the ministry and Damien had Lucien and Mary...Mary didn’t have anything. She had no life outside of being a housewife. Eventually, Chris went to school and she had nothing to do but keep house.

It started slow but it grew, she was told having more kids would help ( and when she held the twins, she was happy.) but of course it didn’t make things better.

It’s really what killed her relationship with Joseph. It killed her a little each day too. She was told she’d be happy if she married and had kids, she wanted to be happy ( so why wasn’t she?)

She started resenting him, resenting her life, feeling trapped in it. This is around the time she befriended Robert.

Robert, who also hated himself, and his life, who was also miserable. Robert who she could tell her worst thoughts to ( “sometimes I wish I wasn’t a mom. What kind of parent am I” “Trust me I’ve seen worse”) things she wouldn’t want to tell Joseph, things she couldn’t even tell Damian.

Their friendship is based on wasted chances and miserable thoughts and an unabashed acceptance of both.

When she found out he slept with Joseph she gave him the silent treatment for a month. ( Damian of all people told him off. Mary’s still his best friend. This isn’t done.)

Eventually, Robert wears her down, begs her to get a drink and says he’s miserable and sorry and miserable and the next morning he makes her a hangover remedy at his house and they bury the hatchet.

Robert tries to bury an actual hatchet in the backyard, Mary laughs calls him an idiot and “where did you even get a hatchet” “shh don’t worry about it” and that’s when they actually make up.

Joseph took up carpentry as a hobby ( he thinks it’s funny how it plays into his name.) he built the kids a treehouse in the backyard and has made them a couple of toys.

Mary always loved horses. It’s something she shares with Christie, who she’s indulged in exactly 245 My Little Pony dolls.

One of Chris’ special interests is fishing lures ( not even fishing just the different kind of lures you can use) he’ll talk Brian’s ear off about it whenever he can find him.

One of Daisy’s special interests is marine animals, she’ll talk Hugo’s ear off whenever she can find him.

Ernest is absolutely not jealous about his dad talking to this other kid. Nope.

Mat’s coffee shop became The Place Where All The Kids hang out ( a few of them want to work there) and he’s somehow become the person they all talk to if they ever have a problem they can’t talk to their dad about. ( Also Pablo’s there and Pablo’s hot, and the older kids can appreciate that)

Unlike Ernest, Carmencita doesn’t mind sharing her dad. She’s actually gotten really good at advice and conflict resolution because of all the problems the others ( including Pablo) ask Mat’s help with.

Because all the parents get together so often -apparently- for barbeques and stuff the kids have kind of made up their minds that they’re all their parents. They have a dad for each occasion. If someone picks on you? Go to Brian, he’s the one who will tell you ( and teach you to throw a punch, just ask Daisy)  Homework problem? Go to Hugo. Fashion advice? Go to Damian.

There have also been talks had by some of the kids about whose parents could end up with whose. ( except for the Christiansen kids.) 

They might or might not be keeping an eye on Dadsona and who xe winds up dating.

[ablednt]

Ngl I do not trust "humans are weird" enjoyers that much. Went from the cute concept of "lol aliens wouldn't know what to do with us"

To being overrun with ridiculous amounts of dehumanizion and barely contained fetish material. Doing absolute numbers in the "i wish i was in a human petting zoo (<- has never been dehumized due to being marginalized, is unaware due to privilege that POC have been treated like animals for ages, doesn't realize how not cute and fun any of this is)" fandom.

Like it's really funny that some of y'all will make fun of cybersmith for being a creep but then will be like omg a 2nd person post about an alien illegally kidnapping an injured human and calling them its pet. This isn't weird or uncomfortable at all. Reblogged.

Like stop that maybe lmao

[hwangsies]

[10:24 pm]

johnny suh × female reader

warnings: a little angst, mentions of infidelity & heartbreak, johnny is whipped af, smut as in: fingering, unprotected piv, finger sucking, dom!johnny, begging, spit, some hairpulling, praise kink, size kink (cmon its johnny)

2.1 k words,

enjoy <3

-

You sigh and give up when the window you're trying to close doesnt move.

Three knocks on your door have you whipping around "yea?"

In comes johnny "hey, i just wanted to check on you"

You breathe "i cant get this window to close, i think its broken" you mumble.

"oh, no its always like this, hold up" he walks over to you, placing one hand on the window handle and the other on its frame before harshly pushing it close.

"there" he grunts, you gulp when sneaking a peek of his arms where his shirt has ridden up "now you dont have to sleep in the cold" he chuckles.

"thank you" you mumble as you walk over to your bed for now.

"you okay?" he frowns when you sit down on the edge of the bed.

"yea just-thanks again for letting me crash here, now that i'm kinda homeless" you chuckle ironically.

Your ex had kicked you out after finding out you did to him what he did to you, cheat.

You know it wasnt the right way to deal with it, but it just happened.

So naturally you had to bother your cousin, jaehyun, the only relative who lives close to you, if you could crash at his dorm for a few nights.

"of course y/n" johnny sits down next to you "we're all here to help if you need anything" one of his large hands finds your knee and you look up at him.

"did you come here just to check up on me?" you ask carefully, not wanting to scare him off.

The tall man sighs and runs a hand through his brown locks "i mean, we havent really talked since...you know" he gestures "and know he broke up with you because of it, and i just fee-"

"dont finish that sentence" you cut him off, locking eyes with him "he cheated on me first, and i know i shouldnt have been this petty, but you were just at the wrong place at the wrong time. its my fault, not yours"

"okay" he mumbles, nodding slowly.

"you didnt tell jaehyun? right?" you inquire.

He laughs "are you kidding? He would kill me" johnny shakes his head "i'm his best friend, i'm not supposed to seduce his little cousin"

"okay first of all, i'm not that little, and second of all i seduced you big boy" you joke lightheartedly, at which he scoffs gently.

Johnny was always a good friend who you just saw as another older cousin like jaehyun. But then that one night, a couple nights ago, arose and you were drunk and he looked so good.

And he was so kind and listened to your worries, even when you were probably slurring most of them.

Johnny himself didnt mean to get caught in this dilemma, he had driven you home after a long night of drinking on your end.

But when he brought you up to your apartment that you shared with your now ex, who was out that night; probably doing worse stuff that you, and you practically threw yourself at him, he couldnt tell right from wrong.

Not when in comes to you.

You deserve someone better than that, was what johnny thought, he still thinks.

Your words that made him stay the night are still ringing in his head.

'every girl would be lucky to have someone like you'

'I wish i had someone like you'

'johnny, i need you'

"johnny" you speak again.

"yea?" he gets ripped out of his daydream and looks at you, god even when you've been crying you look beautiful.

He wishes you could tell you that.

"can you hold me?" you ask sheepishly.

"just for a few minutes...please?" you add when he hesitates.

Johnny looks over at the closed door before looking at you again, you blink at him with those beautiful eyes of yours, slightly sucking your plump bottom lips in between your teeth.

Everyone had already gone to bed, but he's still aware of the fact that your cousins room is right above the spare room, the both of you are currently in.

"yea, of course" he quietly agrees.

Once laid down, he spoons you from behind, tucking you into the blanket.

He's trying not to think about the smell of your shampoo, thats clouding his loungs, or how small you are in his hold, or how much he wants to intertwine his fingers with your smaller ones.

"johnny?" you speak softly after some time, as if not to startle him.

"yes?" he mumbles just as carefully.

You inhale deeply before turning around to face him.

"hi" he smiles softly, with gentle eyes.

You mom always told to to fall in love with someone with gentle eyes, you never knew what that looked like until you looked into his.

"hi" you say back before slightly clearing your throat"i meant what i said that night"

"what excactly?" he asks "you said alot of things i didnt think you'd remember the next day"

You huff in a smile as you shuffle closer to him, he smells like his cologne and dry cleaning.

Its familiar and you feel safe, always.

"that i wish i had someone like you, and that i need you" you repeat your words from said night.

Johnny sucks in a breath "y/n"

"please" you lock eyes "i want you" you cradle one of his cheels in your hand.

"you're vulnerable and it would be wrong of-"

"but its doesnt feel wrong!" you interrupt him "does it?"

"no" johnny breathes out before he can think, which you take as your sign to press your lips to his, in almost the same desperate way as you did a couple nights ago.

He doesnt hesitate to part the seam of your lips with his tongue before sitting up in between you legs without breaking the kiss.

Quickly, you push yourself up a little to take off his shirt.

You mewl when his hand rubs you over your shorts and he kisses your neck, running your hands up his ripped torso.

"gotta be quiet baby girl" he whispers into the skin below your ear before sitting up.

"can you do that for me?" he asks while pulling off your shorts.

"can you be quiet for me?" you raise your hips as you nod at his request, him pulling off your panties as well.

"good girl" he praises, dropping a kiss to your knee. Your wet pussy awaiting him, already glistening in the dimmed lights.

"fuck" he groans when slowly sliding one digit through your folds.

A soft gasp tumbles from your lips and your toes curl.

Hooking your right leg over his shoulder, he gently pushes one of his long fingers into you.

Your back arches when he rubs your clit with his thumb before adding a second.

"that feels so good" you moan, gently rocking your hips.

"yea?" he grins, slightly scissoring his fingers to stretch you out for his cock.

His other hand travelling up your sweater and palming your breasts as he thrusts his fimgers into you at the perfect angle.

"johnny-fuck" you groan when the flicks on your clit increse in speed.

"gonna cum, baby?" he mumbles, dick straining against his sweatpants.

"yes-oh!" you moan out, at which johnny moves his hand away from your breast to hold onto your jaw.

"shhh baby" he grits through his teeth before pushing two of his fingers into your warm mouth.

You instantly moan around the digits, feeling your high approach rapidly.

"cum for me pretty baby"

One of your hands is pulling at the sheets while the other is holding onto johnnys forearm for dear life when you cum.

Your eyes screwing shut as your body thrashes with pleasure, white blooming behind your lids as he rides you through it.

"thats it, good girl" he gently massages your walls while you're still sucking on his fingers.

Johnny retreats both sets of fingers out of you, to pull you up into a stitting position.

You moan against him when he kisses you deeply.

Nimble fingers making their way to the hem of your oversized sweatshirt and stripping you of it when he breaks the kiss.

Pushing you down on your back again, his plump lips attach to your left nipple at which you moan softly.

"johnny, please" you whimper.

"mmh" his lips move to your neck, licking and kissing the sensitive skin there.

"I love it when you beg for me baby girl" he grins against your skin before pulling away to rid himself of his pants.

"sound so pretty saying my name like that" he mumbles before getting a good grip on your hips and flipping you over with zero to no effort.

You squeal when his hands pull up your hips, instinctively you prop up on your hands to see what he's doing, but he pushes your torso down again.

"fuck me, please" you whimper when he spreads your cheeks to get a good look at your sex.

"goddamm" you hear him curse before an obscene spit noice fills the room and you feel it splatter against your pussy.

You clench around nothing, which he sees and chuckles at before dipping his head and licking a flat stripe from your clit up to your opening.

"fuck-" your body jolts a little "please , john- fuck me"

"hmm, as you wish, love" your hole flutter once more at the petname before he pushes in carefully.

A groan tears from your throat, but you're quick enough to muffle it with the pillow.

"fucking hell- tight little pussy is not gonna fit all of me" he grunts as he spreads your ass cheeks again to see how tightly your walls are hugging him.

"more, please" you beg once more and he pushes inside of you all the way before quickly bottoming out.

"fuck" his voice is shaky and you feel a sense of pride come over you.

He picks up a good pace, his girth and lenght filling you up to the brim and hitting your spot with every stroke.

You moan and whimper into the pillow as johnny snaps his hips into you with an iron grip on your hips.

He feels the way you clench around him "you close baby?" he moans.

You lift your head to let out an affirmative whimper before he gathers some of your hair in one of his hands and tugs at the roots.

A whine leaves your lips before a second hand comes down to your breast and pulls your torso up and flush against his.

The arch in your back is uncomfortable but you barely feel it by the way he's fucking into you.

His hand leaves your hair in favour to cover your mouth, pressing the back of your head to his shoulder, when you yelp out at a paticular harsh thrust.

"come on baby, i know you're almost there" he rasps into your ear, the hand on your breats leaving in favor for your clit.

You groan into his hand when the pads of his fingers move over the sensitive nub at a fast pace.

You hold onto johnnys bulging biceps when you feel like you're about to explode.

"cream all over my cock baby girl, come on" his words send you spiralling into your second high of the night.

Your cries of pleasure get muffled by his hands, you feel your thighs trembling and ready to give out but he holds you up.

The overstimulation stets in and you jolt, pressing on his hand to move away from your clit.

The hand on your mouth moves as well before he bottoms out and flips you on your back again.

He looks sweaty but divine, muscles glistening in the faint lighting and some hair sticking to his forehead.

"wont last long anymore baby" he pulls you down slightly before pushing inside of you again.

You whimper and grab him by the neck, pulling him down to connect your lips as you wrap your legs around his waist.

His thrusts get sloppy as you kiss at his neck.

"cum in me, please johnny" you moan quietly into his ear, holding on to his shoulders.

His name on your lips makes him loose his composure, spilling his seed into you with a hiss and burying his face into your neck.

"i love you" he chants breathlessly before he realises that he's actually saying it out loud and not just thinking it.

Your body freezes when you hear his sweet confession.

"you do?"

-

a/n: turned a little more mushy than i had intended but oh well.

also not proofread yet, soz🤫

[exploradora-writes]

Fireside Love: An Arthur x Charlotte Fic (18+ Only)

Warnings: NSFW, wholesome smut 

Summary:  During a snowstorm, Arthur and Charlotte decide to use their time cooped up in their cabin wisely.

Word Count: 3,455

Notes: Thank you @the-halo-of-my-memory​  and @unpocowboys​ for helping me out with this fic. The both of you are very talented writers! I plan on writing more Charlotte and Arthur fics in the future. These two are one of my favorite comfort couples, so I wanted to make a spicy yet cozy fic about them. Warning: Tons of wholesome smut ahead...

This fic can also be found on my AO3 under exploradora_writes

The first frost flakes began to stick to the window, the kitchen gradually becoming colder as snowflakes began to fall from the pitch black sky outside. 

Charlotte sighed, tossing another log into the stove, her stew stubbornly refusing to boil. She glanced at the woodpile, the three tiny logs lying there in an almost mocking sort of way. 

The clouds blocked out much of the sunlight, but she knew it would be dark soon. She held onto the counter, trying her hardest not to think of the worst, but she couldn’t help it.

He could be lost, stranded with no direction, no food, no warmth.

She shook her head, coming to her senses. Arthur may view himself as nothing but muscle and absolutely no brain, but as his wife, she knew better. He had an excellent sense of direction and survival skills. Any minute he’d be through that door with a load of firewood, and maybe even an animal or two.

She asked if she could come. Two heads were better than one, she tried to reason.

“No, darlin’, as much as I’d love to go with you, I need you stayin’ home and watchin’ over the house, keepin’ it warm. Wouldn’t want any strangers takin’ residence while we’re gone, would we?”

More than one weary traveller, some more hostile than others, had taken up residence in their home on more than one occasion while the two of them were off on hunting trips. While she understood where Arthur was coming from, she couldn’t escape her fear of the worst. She’d already lost one of the men she loved dearly to the harsh conditions of nature, she couldn’t bear to lose another one.

Her motionless broth seemed to stare back up at her as it refused to boil. “You ain’t making this easy for me, broth.”

Talking to an inanimate substance? The snow really was making her stir crazy. Arthur had better hurry up before I start talking to the logs, she thought. 

Figuring the broth was nowhere near boiling over, she took those three pathetic logs sitting on the woodpile and tossed them in the fireplace. She looked around for a match, lit it with a satisfying strike, and tossed it on the pile. The flames licked up the logs, but Charlotte knew it couldn’t last long. She lay back on a chair in the kitchen, staring into the flames of the fire. She smiled, her eyes following the flames as they danced along the logs, remembering all those years ago when her and Arthur danced around the campfire on their little outdoor honeymoon getaway. They drank and sang and made love their fair share of times by the roaring flames of the fire. Sure, it was no fancy trip in the big city, but it was simple and memorable. 

Unfortunately, the fire before her sounded more of a purr as opposed to a roar. She let out another sigh, looking back at the empty woodpile, longing for her strong handsome woodsman to return.  

As if on cue, she heard the door handle jiggle, as the man she had been longing to see emerged from the snowy darkness outside. 

“Arthur!” She arose, practically pouncing on him. He moved his scarf away from his cherry red face, panting from the effort of carrying.. firewood. Loads of it. Charlotte sighed with relief at the sight, wrapping her arms around him. She didn’t care that he was like an icicle, nor that she would get wet from the snow that dusted his wooly blue coat. Her hands met his face, cold despite the large beard he sported. Her lips met his, her warm pink lips melting his icy blue ones. 

“Charlotte,” he breathed. “Glad I made it in time. Bundle up and help me haul in some of this wood. I have a feelin’ this is only the beginin’ of this snow storm.” 

She threw on a sweater, a coat, and a pair of boots. She opened the door to the dark depths of the winter night. The bitter cold nipped at her entire body despite being bundled up head to toe. She tried to imagine how good the fire would feel against her and her lover’s bodies once they were in the warmth of their little home. 

Arthur had made quite the haul. Firewood, some supplies from the general store, and even a deer. She smiled, feeling her body warm up as she thought of how wonderful and lucky she was to have a man like him. 

They fought against the wind back into the house. It took the strength of the two of them to even get the door closed. They both panted and fell against each other. 

“Well, we best get cozy, darlin.’ We’re gonna be here awhile.” Arthur said, removing his snow covered clothes. 

Charlotte returned to the kitchen, the pot of broth finally showing signs that it was preparing to boil. She threw another log on the stove for good measure. 

Arthur came up behind her and kissed her cheek, his cold lips sending a shiver down her spine. “How’s everything comin’ along?”

She smiled as the both began to boil. “Rather nicely now that you’ve returned, cowboy.”

“Hmmm I figured I’d have the opposite effect. My coldness would ruin any hopes of ever makin’ a good meal.”

“Quite the contrary, Mr. Morgan.” She stirred in the ingredients: savory chicken, carrots, onions, and peas. “Because I think you’re so hot, you make pots boil. You made mine boil when you walked through that door.” She looked back at him, stirring the pot in lazy circles. “Cheeks still rosy from the cold?”

“Er, yeah,” he fumbled, “you could say that.” 

She rubbed his face, running her fingers through his beard. “You hungry?”

His hands ran along her hips. “Starvin’..” 

“We could eat in front of the fire if you’d like. It’d be a nice change, don’t you think?” 

“Sure, sounds cozy.” He gave her hips one last squeeze before getting two bowls from the above cabinets. “Smells delicious.’”

“You talking about the soup or are you talking about me, dear?” She gave him a small smile. 

“Can’t I be talking about both?” Like a magnetic attraction, his hands were back on her hips.

“Goodness you’re handsy tonight!” She giggled. “Alright, soup’s on.”

He gave her cheek a quick peck before serving himself a large bowl of soup. She unwrapped some bread she had been saving for tonight and placed it in each of their bowls. They brought their meals over to the fireplace, sitting in front of it. 

Arthur took a sip, his body quickly warming up from the combination of the fire and the broth. He let out a satisfied groan. “This soup’s real good, sweetheart.”

“Well I’m glad you think so,” she beamed. “I always worry I’ll muck something up.”

“That’d be pretty hard for you to do, Char.” He smiled at her, motioning for her to sit closer to him. She obliged, cosying up to him and resting her head on his shoulder.

The sounds of the crackling fire and the slurping of soup filled the room. Arthur tipped his bowl back, finishing the rest of the broth. He let out a satisfied sigh and took Charlotte’s bowl as well, putting them next to the sink to be washed. He’ll clean up eventually, he thought. Right now all he wanted to do was warm up his wonderful wife.

  He changed into his union suit, catching a glimpse outside the window. The snow came down with a vengeance. He grabbed a log from the pile and tossed it into the dying flames. The fire continued to dwindle. 

“Goddamm it,” he muttered, bending over to grab the poker and stir the ashes around. He felt the familiar sensation of a hand giving his behind a light smack. He turned around, his wife looking around, a mischievous grin plastered on her face. 

He arched an eyebrow. “Was that really necessary, darlin’?”

“Was what necessary?” She tried looking away, but try as she might, her lips continued to curl into a smile.

“You know damn well what I’m talkin’ about, missy. Your hand just loves smackin’ my ass, don’t it?” 

“That is quite the accusation, Mr. Morgan!”

“I oughtta smack YOU on the ass.”

She smirked, tilting her head. “Well? What’s stopping you?”

He studied her for a second, then knelt down next to her. “Goddamn, have you always been this naughty?”

“Always have, always will be. It’s one of the reasons you married me, remember?” She lay back on the carpet. “Now get me a blanket, would you, darling? It’s freezing in here.”

He sighed, tossing her a few blankets. He tossed another log on the fire, then lay next to her. He wrapped his arms around her as she shivered against him. He scooted the two of them closer to the fire. “There, now that’s better.”

She nuzzled against his chest and yawned. “Arthur?”

“Hmm?” He looked down at her.

“How long do you think we’ll be in here? Waiting out this storm?”

He looked outside again, the snow showing no signs of stopping. “Awhile. Don’t know how long exactly, but we’ve survived much worse. ‘Sides, I stocked up on food and supplies, we’ll be fine.

She sighed, looking up at him and kissing his cheek. “Well, we’ve got plenty of time, what should we do to pass it?”

He chuckled. “Well, there’s always dominoes, and redecoratin’, and we can always be workin’ on our marriage.”

“Oh? And how exactly do you want to work on that?” She held his hand, circling his palm with her thumb.

“Well, when’s the last time we’ve had to ourselves like this? Seems like we’re always busy with housework, farmwork, all kinds of work. This is a good opportunity for us to just… be in each other’s presence.”

She hummed against his chest. “Sounds wonderful.”

The flames of the fire crackled, and Charlotte let out a small, breathy laugh.

“What’s so funny?” Arthur asked.

“Oh just remembering our little honeymoon.”

Arthur smiled as the memories came flooding back. “That little camping trip.”

“Yes! Remember, out on the lake?”

“How could I forget? We tipped the whole damn canoe over!” He laughed, rocking back and forth and waving his arms around dramatically, reenacting the fateful moment. 

The two of them collapsed on the floor in a heap of giggles, cuddling up to each other to trap the warmth again as their laughter died down. Charlotte looked into the flames of the fire, a small smile on her face. “And the campfire,” she mused. “Illuminated the entire night sky. Millions of tiny stars, looking down at us.”

Arthur chuckled. “Yeah, I remember.Them crickets were noisy sons of bitches, weren’t they?”

“I think they thought the same thing about us, dear.” She ran her hands along his chest, gazing into his blue eyes that perfectly complimented his rosy cheeks. 

“Darlin’, you were the one makin’ all the noise,” he said in a low tone.

She sighed, resting her head against his chest. “You’re right, you always were a good lover.”

He rubbed her back, gazing into the flames as well. “You know, we could alway reenact that night. If you’re up to it that is.”

She smirked, smooching his cheek. “I thought you’d never ask,” she whispered in his ear, giving it a small nip. He let a gasp escape his lips.

“Jesus, darlin’.” His lips met hers as he gracefully flipped her onto her back. “I was on top, remember?” He pinned her wrists to the soft, welcoming rug beneath them. It was her turn to let out a gasp. A bead of sweat dripped down her brow, the weight of her husband’s warm body causing blood to rush throughout her entire being. 

She kissed his neck and moaned. “Are you sure I wasn’t the one on top?” She wrapped her legs around his torso and twisted her body around and caught him off guard. Arthur grunted, his wife now the one staring down at him. 

He couldn’t help but chuckle. Who knew such a typically mild mannered woman could have the drive and spunk of a working girl? He felt himself growing stiff beneath her. 

“No, darlin’, you’ve got it all wrong, remember? You were on top when we was by the lake, after we went skinny dippin’. I remember ‘cause the rocks were diggin’ into my back, but hell, it was worth is just to watch myself disappear inside of you over and over again.”

Warmth flooded her core as she began to grind against his leg. “Well, which was it, Arthur? Make up your mind before...before I..” She buried her face in the crook of his neck and moaned.

“Look at you…” he chuckled. “You gonna cum before I’m even inside you?” 

She shook her head. 

“Thought not. Goddamn, you must be soaked.” He held her against him and kissed her lips. He lay her back down against the soft texture of the rug, his hands exploring her body, as they had on that fateful night. “Now it’s all comin’ back to me. You were lyin’ there, the light of the fire dancin’ across your nude body…” His hands played with the straps of her nightgown before sliding them off, revealing her bare bosom. “Your breasts, milky white…” He planted kisses on them, his calloused fingers running across her pink buds. 

She bit her lip to stifle a moan. “Yeah? Then what?”

He slid the nightgown further down her body. “Your stomach, soft and delicate” His voice had grown low and a bit hoarse. 

Charlotte rubbed her thighs together, her breath shallow as she anticipated his next move.

Finally, he slid the nightgown completely off of her body, the cold air hitting her skin. She shivered, not from the air, but from the sensation of Arthur’s bearded face rubbing against the sensitive skin of her inner thigh. He kissed all the way up her thigh until he reached her core. He placed his fingers against it, and while a layer of cloth separated his touch from her body, she still left out a soft moan.

“Yes...yes…” he growled. “I’m rememberin’ now. How you tasted…” He looked up at her as he slid her panties down her legs. “Darlin’, it’s takin’ everythin’ in me not to devour you right now.”

“W-what’s stopping you?” 

That comment again. God, she was a relentless tease. 

He stared at her as he gave her pussy a long, teasingly slow lick. She let out a soft whimper at the sensation of his warm tongue against her intimacy. Her juices continued to flow, and he was right there to lap them up with his eager mouth.

Her taste was familiar to his tongue, sweet as summer honeysuckles. His beard rubbed the skin of her inner thighs, and she arched her back as his tongue continued to explore the familiar territory of her folds. His cock throbbed against the tight fabric of his union suit. He longed to be inside her, to hold her against him as their heartbeats began to sync. 

He growled, fumbling with the buttons of his suit and he moved his head back and forth. He ran his hand along his entire length, finally letting it free from its previous confines. 

His wife couldn’t help but glance down and moan at the sight of her husband pleasuring himself while he pleasured her. She bucked against his face, feeling herself reaching her peak.

His calloused thumb made lazy circles around her clit while his other thumb circled the head of his cock. 

Charlotte bit her lip and whimpered, squirming against her husband’s face. 

“That’s it, darlin’,” he growled, “cum for me. You can do it, I know you’re close. Fuck…” His cock leaked with precum. 

She arched her back and moaned out his name, and while no one could feasibly hear them in the middle of the woods, right at that moment it felt like the entire world knew that Arthur Morgan was filling her with ecstasy as she reached her climax. 

She panted, her body coated with a thin layer of sweat. “Oh...Oh, Arthur..”

He panted heavily as well, sliding beside her and kissing her, his face and beard still lingering with the taste and scent of her. 

“Mmm that’s a good girl…” he whispered in her ear. 

Her hands squeezed his glistening biceps, then trailed down to his chest and stomach. She played with his chest hair, a sly smirk on her face. “My big man loves to eat, hmm?” she teased, kissing his neck and nipping his earlobe. 

“You’re damn right I do.” He let out a grunt, his cock twitching. 

Charlotte kissed him and shimmied the rest of his suit down his body. 

“Now we’ve just gotta stay close together so we don’t freeze to death,” she said, her hand gripping his length and stroking it. She kissed his lips, muffling the groan that escaped his mouth. 

“Mmm I want us both facin’ the fire,” he whispered. “No more fightin’ to be on top.” 

“Yes sir.” She obeyed, laying on her side facing the fire. 

He slid her body against his, turning her face so he could kiss her. He lifted her leg, reaching a hand around to rub her pussy, still soaked from their previous interaction. 

He slid inside of her with ease, both of them gasping practically the same breath. His cock inside of her was a familiar feeling that seemed to bring her more pleasure with each thrust. 

His large hand clasped her smaller one, the both of them unable to take their eyes off of the other one. The fire continued to roar, and while the outside raged with icy wrathfulness, the inside of their little cabin was a hearth of comfort and pleasure. 

“Darlin’, I…” he growled, twitching inside of her.

A familiar, floaty feeling began to rise in her stomach, and she let out a soft moan. 

He brought their clasped hands down to her sensitive bundle of nerves. With his hand over hers, he guided her and pleased her, as an artist guides his brush across a canvas, and as an artist creates a passion filled work of art, so too were they.

She squirmed against him, barely able to contain herself as she moaned out broken pieces of his name. 

“That’s it, goddamn that’s it…” he growled in her ear. “Cum with me, be a good girl and cum with me..” 

The fire crackled and sparked and so did she, moaning as she came undone once more. 

Arthur pulled out and groaned, spilling his seed on her stomach. 

The two of them collapsed in a heap of sweat, the both of them panting and staring up at the ceiling, holding hands. 

Finally, Arthur mustered up the strength to get up and retrieve a wet cloth to clean up his wife. He smirked as he cleaned her. “You were so good tonight.”

“So were you, dear.” She kissed him. “You always know exactly what I need.”

The fire began to fizzle out. Charlotte sighed and arose, retrieving a log from the pile and tossing it into the fireplace. The light of the flames illuminated every curve of her nude form. Arthur’s heart beat a bit faster at the sight.

He wished to God he could capture her in that same pose. He’d be sure to sketch a replica of it, hell, maybe have her model for him just so he had an excuse to see her naked again. Either way, the sight of her looking like a work of art made his heart soar. She definitely beat all the dirty cigarette cards he and the old gang members used to trade. 

“Something on your mind, Arthur?” 

He blinked a few times before chuckling. “Nothin’. Just thinkin’ about you and how lovely you look.”

She smiled and lay down beside him, kissing his forehead. “You’ve still got it, darling.”

“Oh, is that so?”

“I’m not kidding. You were wonderful tonight. It was almost identical to our honeymoon.”

He furrowed his brow and turned his head to look at her. “Almost?”

“Well, we weren’t under the stars!”

He looked out the window, the snow still coming down fast. “Darlin’, you’d better be thankin’ the lord we weren’t doin’ it outside. We’d be freezin’ our asses off in all that snow.”

She giggled, nuzzling against him and kissing his chest. “Well we may not have been making love under the stars, but you certainly made me see stars tonight, Mr. Morgan.”

He chuckled, pulling her against him and kissing her one more time before drifting off to sleep. 

[blackhakumen]

Mini Fanfic #894: Steam & Relaxation (Kingdom Hearts)

2:12 p.m. at Troop's Hotsprings Resort. The Steam Room.......

Lea/Isa/Barret: ('Sighs Relaxingly')

Barret: Ah man.....Now this is what I call Heaven right.

Isa: There are a few places I considered to be heavenly....And I believe this place is already one of them....

Lea: Tell me about it.....I'd come here everyday if didn't cost that much of money......(Turns to Isa) Do we ever have a Hotsprings somewhere back at our town?

Isa: I'm not sure actually....I haven't really walk around the town as much as I used to as of late.

Barret: It's been a while since I did any of that either. But I don't think I remember them having one yet.

Lea: Well, if that's the case, then they should. (Starts Stretching in a Relaxed Manner) Just imagine how much of bank they would make for all four seasons.

Isa: (Raised an Eyebrow in Confusion) Bank?

Lea: Yeah. You know? Money? Moolah? ('Sigh') I heard Hayner said it that one time ago so I dunno.........

Isa: Lea, I think the kids' intelligence are starting to dwindle ours.

Lea: Oh come on. Our kids are plenty smart! Just....not as crazy smart and clever as either of us are, ya know?

Isa: (Starts Rolling his Eyes) Please. We both know that I'm easily the smartest member of our household. Meanwhile, you couldn't go one day without falling asleep in training. You might as well be a class clown at this point.

Lea: (Puts on a Relax, Smug Smirk on his Face) Yet this potential class clown still managed to tricked you into failing the challenge.

Isa: (Glares at his Boyfriend) By using cheap tactics and having pure luck on your side.

Lea: Yeah. But it still worked out all the sames~

Barret: Woah Woah. Time out! Y'all actually did the Triple N Challenge before?

Lea: Isa and Terra did! A few weeks ago to be exact.

Isa: ('Sigh') It's true. Terra suggested we try and take part in it after our sparring session ended. It.....didn't go so well as we hoped for.......

Lea: (Starts Snickering) They didn't even last a day!

Barret: (Eyes Widenedin Complete Surprise) No goddamm way! (Turns to Isa) How did y'all able to fail so easily?

Isa: Well, Aqua managed to seduced Terra into joining the bed with for the rest of the night. (Slowly Turns to Lea) While Lea used....."other" tactics.........

Lea: I managed to make Isa think I was justnas smart as he was. (Slams the Bench He Was Sitting On With a Shit Eating Grin on his Face) And he felt for it all the fucking way!!

Barret: (Starts Bursting out Laughing) Isa, my man! He can't be serious about all of this, is he!?

Isa: ('Sigh') Unfortunately, he is. (Immediately Turns Away From a Smirking Lea While Blushing and Crossing his Arms) B-But only because he gotten lucky.......

Lea: (Starts Smirking at Isa) And was a bit more handsome in a few areas?~

Isa: (Sighs Heavily While Rolling his Eyes Some More) I'll admit....the glasses did look fairly on you. (Turns Back to Lea) You should wear it more often.

Lea: (Smiles Brightly) I'll consider it. But let's not forget that my cleverness has outweigh your intellig- (Immediately Got his Mouth Covered by Isa's Hand)

Isa: (Gives Lea a Deadpinned Look on his Face) Don't push it.

Barret: (Continues Laughing Before Wiping a Tear From Off his Eyes) You boys are a riot! How come y'all haven't marry each other yet?

Isa: (Let his Hand Go From Lea's Mouth) Still young.

Lea: And haven't really thought about it much yet. Which reminds me.... Have you ever been in a relationship before, Barret?

Barret: Oh yeah. I was married a long ago actually.

Isa: Really now? With who?

Barret: Myrna Wallace. The most strongest, beautiful woman I've ever fell in love with. She had my back, I had hers, we were practically inseparable from one another.....(Slowly Starts Frowning a Bit Sadly) It.... wasn't long before she passed away from an unknown illness.

Lea: (Eyes Widened in Genuine Shock) Oh man......

Isa: (Frowns Sadly For his Friend) I am so sorry for your, Barret.

Barret: (Looks Back at the Duo With a Small, Sad Smile) Nah. Don't worry about it. That all happened a long time ago. Granted, it was....rough trying to get over it after all these years, especially after all the crazy shit I went through, but I still managed to pull through. Plus, I got my sweet, little Marlene to look after now. So I'm not too torn up about it. The only thing I'm hopeful for is that she's resting in a better place.

Lea: (Place a Hand On Barret's Shoulder With a Reassuring Smile) I'm sure she's doing all right up there, big guy.

Isa: (Nodded in Agreement) Agreed. But if you ever feel like you need someone to talk to, we're always available to listen and. (Points at Lea With his Thumb) Just.... don't be surprised if he gives you poor advices.

Lea: (Immediately Glares at Isa) Hey, I give out meaningful advices thank you!

Isa: Need I remind you about the time you encouraged Roxas to cheat on test?

Lea: He passed, didn't he!?

Isa: By cheating.

Lea: Well, at least he didn't get caught while doing it.

Isa: Lea!

Barret: (Chuckles Lightly) You two are good people. But seriously, thank you.

@keyenuta

@caleb13frede

@26shann

@khtext

@ma-lemons

@cyber-wildcat

@illyrilex

@albion-93

[simonalkenmayer]

So theres this girl in my class, right? And shes always venting to everyone about her abusive household, her rapist who assaulted her a few months ago and was recently released, and how it's all fine. Nothing to worry about, right? NO. Cause no one else was doing a goddamm thing about it, they were all just listening and taking it in and not even caring, while I'm listening intently, trying to talk to her and help her, trying to find a loop where I can bring the authorities in to help her out. TODAY WAS THE DAY cause guess who shows up with bruises on her face from being beat up by said rapist who was recently let out?? This girl was. And did anyone do anything about jt???? FUCK NO!! So I think "Ok, she has bruises, shes told me who did it to her, shes also told the entire class ALONG WITH THE TEACHERS, and on top of that shes starving herself" and I go to the school psychiatrist cause the damn cop isnt in the school. I tell him everything and now hes filing a report. What the fuck is wrong with us as a species? What the fuck is wrong with everyone? How do you tolerate this bullshit every fucking day, Simon? How the fuck do you do it? 700 YEARS. You've had to deal with this shit for that long, I only have 70-80 years left, and I'm already losing it. How do you deal with this??

- rabbit

Far longer than thay, my friend.

It’s exhausting, I assure you. I find ways to distract my consciousness from the utter hopelessness I sometimes feel by thinking about the good I’ve seen you do. My species is talented at really only one thing, which isn’t particularly useful all the time. So I try to be of use, to be different to them. Some humans do this too.

No one wants to interfere because they are both afraid and concerned about being rude or overstepping, or becoming involved in something outside their ken. So they tell themselves “Is help if there was something substantive” but the definition of what is substantive shifts with their comfort level.

I’m glad you did something. When someone’s safety might be at risk, to hell with being polite. Be polite later when you apologize for caring enough to break social rules on their behalf. Apologize after the whole event is shown to be blown out of proportion. But for now, be as god damn impolite as you want to keep someone safe.

That’s my particular feeling on the subject. Of course I’ve been known to make meals of such abusers so...I am a biased observer.

[heavens--honey]

(i don't know how to add a read more or anything on mobile so uuuh, sorry for the long post y'all can skip if you want)

man that last post just made me really think about my dad. he's already been on my mind a good bit today for unrelated reasons, but I've just been thinking how fucking grateful i am for him. he's not perfect but by god does he try so hard to show he cares for us. sure with the job he has he can be distant at times, because he has to travel basically all over the state for good enough hours for us to live as comfortably as we do but even then i know he's showing he care because he works so much. he wants us to have happy and comfortable lives. and sure at times he can be snappy and angry and loud, but i think that's also because of how tired he is all the time from working so much. and sometimes he's just angry just because, i know i can be at times too and i don't blame him for it.

but there's so many small things he does when he's home that shows just how much he cares for us, so much of it i didn't even realise until now. for one, he takes as many times as he can to go out with us kids on the weekends as he can. he loves going shooting with all of us, even if i haven't gone in a while he loves going with my brothers so much. and the time he took the time while changing the battery in my sister's car to show us how to do it properly....

and then there's smaller things he's done, like he knows i like collecting rocks so when one time he was at work and he found a heart shaped one on the ground he took it home for me. because he knew i would like it and would make me happy. and he doesn't get mad at me when i correct him either like my mom does. i talked with him about sulfactants not that long ago, and he would tell me how they work in construction and concrete and i would tell him how they worked in the body, specifically the lungs. and i corrected his definition saying that it decreases liquid surface tension, not raises it and after looking up the definition he admitted he was wrong! and thanked me! and god him being able to say "i was wrong and you were right, thank you for correcting me" means so goddamm much to me still, even if he doesn't remember the conversation anymore.

i don't know, i didn't really have a point to this ramble. I'm just getting emotional over how much i love my dad i guess, and wanted to put it somewhere. for as imperfect he is he tries so hard to show he loves us, and i can tell he really does.

[positivelyamazonian]

(pt2) I'm used to tr2&3 ver of Lara where she's more human. She fumbles eventhough we were to believe she was a perfectionist but Toby Gard didn't want to continue developing her because of marketing(which I doubt). He was pleased with how Lara was portrayed in Legends, isn't he being a bit hypocritical? It's clear he wanted Lara to be sort of a flawless comic book/hollywood superhero. But we both know Lara is not just that. Sorry for the rant, but Legends got me curious about how tr started.

It is directly false that Toby Gard left Core Design because of the marketing of the character, and when he stated it was because of it during Legend times, he was utterly lying. As we know per ex-Core Design’s members statements like Richard Morton, the reason Toby Gard left Core Design was because he had plans to expand his career by working for other studios and he wanted to grab the chance, which the rest of Core members respected despite asking him not to leave the studio. 

The sexualization marketing had NOTHING to do with this and it’s an utter lie Core Design had anything to do with it, as it’s proven by the statements of several ex-Core members during the years and information you can find picked up, contrasted and collected in Serel’s book. It was Eidos the ones marketing Lara as a sexy icon, not Core, as it’s proven by several statements against it coming from the level designers which even designed the last cutscene of Tomb Raider II, in Home Sweet Home, to remind the player “you’ve seen enough” and has no right to look through Lara’s bathing robe.

Another proof of Toby Gard not caring at all about the sexualization of his character was that in his sketches of Lara - or even when she still was Laura Cruz - depicts obviously a sexualized character with big breasts and partially revealing clothing, as it was typical in the 90s:

Then, as you say, he came back with Legend, and he had no qualms in lying about the reasons with which he left Core Design, a place were he was given plenty of creativity freedom and the team stuck with him when refusing Lara’s nude patch. 

He says it’s about the sexualization of the character and then goes with working on a game, Legend, in which Lara gets sorts of bikinis to be used as outfits, uses a more than revealing night dress in the Tokyo sequences that ends up ragged until uncovering her panties, and has also some curious renders like this one

(there’s a version without the torn cloth, revealing all her back) which hardly has anything to do with characterization and the inside game’s plot. But surely, Core Design had to be shot dead for some TR3 marketing renders EIDOS made - not them! - and of course no one blinked an eye - Gard and the fandom included - when these things were showed in Legend and even were encouraged and praised because it was “fun” and “badass”. A typical Hollywood-esque cliché and attitude, as you well say.

It is unfair and upsetting to find still so many lies and misinformation about the origins of the era. I remember Toby Gard being praised like a god when he returned in 2006, but turns out his contribution to the game was far less determinant and impressive than it was back in 1996, and after this he just vanishes into thin air and never goes back again. Well.

Yes, he’s a textbook hypocrite and a liar, and I don’t get why he had to damage the team with which he worked by saying lies and slanders about the reasons why he left Core Design. We must insist that it was Eidos, not Core, who was in charge of the marketing campaign. And that seeing what was done later with Legend, the TR3 sexy renders fall flat and unimportant since they had nothing to do with what you could find IN the game. While in Legend, you get to use bikinis, rags and behold Lara’s deep cleavage, almost totally exposed tits and exposed panties. But yeah, let’s burn Core at the stake for no goddamm reason.

In any case, after the scarce sympathy I had for Gard left vanished long ago, it’s important to remark it makes no sense to worship him like a god, since yeah, he created Lara, he worked at TR1, and later, at Legend. But that’s all. What about the rest of the saga we love and cherish? He wasn’t the one behind ALL of it, right?

A team work. With two women working in level design and storyboard from the first. Let’s never forget it.

[thelastspeecher]

Superhero/villain AU - Superbabs!

Day 01   Day 02   Day 03   Day 04   Day 05   Day 06   Day 07   Day 08 Day 09   Day 10   Day 11   Day 12   Day 13   Day 14   Day 15   Day 16 Day 17   Day 18   Day 19   Day 20   Day 21   Day 22   Day 23   Day 24 Day 25   Day 26   Day 27   Day 28   Day 29   Day 30

I’m very slowly trying to finish up NaNoWriMo, and lately I’ve been thinking a lot about the Superhero/villain AU, so here’s yet another Superhero/villain AU ficlet.  This one features the Stangie babs getting their powers!

Word count: 1452

              Stan grabbed a box out of the pantry.  He squinted at it.

              Did Angie buy this?  I don’t recognize it.  Maybe her mom bought it and gave it to her.

              “Stan!” Lute shouted, clearly irritated.  Stan groaned and put the box back.

              “Look, you can stick around if you want to play with the girls, but you know Angie and I have a no yelling rule.”

              “Yeah, well, you got back from work half an hour ago and since then, I’ve had to put out four fires.  Cut it out.” Stan marched into the living room, where Lute was playing with Danny and Daisy.  At the moment, Daisy was sitting in Lute’s lap while Danny chewed on a toy in the girls’ playpen.  Stan crossed his arms.

              “Lute, two things.  First, I know not to set fires in the house.  I had that drilled into me pretty hard by everyone I’ve ever lived with. Second, I don’t set fires by accident. I’m not some…kid…”  Stan trailed off, remembering what Angie’s doctor had said about elemental abilities being highly heritable.  He stared at Daisy.  Daisy’s wispy brown hair burst into flames.

              “Holy-!” Lute shouted.  A glass of water resting on a bedside table exploded.  The water from the glass flew over and doused Daisy’s hair.  “What the- how?”

              “She’s a pyro,” Stan said.  Daisy giggled, her hair now steaming.  “She’s a pyro!”  The block in Daisy’s hand caught fire.

              “I’m out of water, take her!”  Lute shoved Daisy into Stan’s arms.

              “Your parents aren’t rich, kiddo,” Stan said calmly.  He grabbed the block and extinguished it.  Daisy sniffed loudly.  “Aw, sweetie, don’t get upset just ‘cause I wouldn’t let you destroy your toy,” Stan cooed.  He ruffled Daisy’s hair.  “You did good today.  You’re a pyro, just like your dad!”  Daisy pouted at him.  “Here, here!” Stan held out his hand. Concentrating, he created a burst of white and yellow fire in the shape of a flower.  “Look!  It’s you. It’s a daisy.”  Daisy’s eyes widened.  She grabbed at the fire playfully.  Her hands passed through the flames unharmed, but her onesie caught fire. “Shit.”  Stan grabbed the flaming sleeve, putting it out with his hand.

              “Y’know, pyros make great villains,” Lute said.

              “Nah, this little lady’s gonna be a hero like me.  I can tell.”  Stan nuzzled Daisy’s large nose.  “Isn’t that right, Miss Daisy?”  Daisy giggled.  The front door opened.

              “Hello, hello!” a voice called.

              “Angie, Stan’s tryin’ to get Daisy to be a hero!” Lute shouted.

              “Huh?”  Angie walked into the living room.  She was still in her villainy duds, the spandex splattered with what Stan hoped was not her blood.  “What’s goin’ on?”

              “Lute’s being a tattletale,” Stan said, glaring at his brother-in-law.  “Making him a bad role model for his nieces, by the way.”  Lute rolled his eyes.  “I was just saying that Daisy would be a good hero, because she’s a pyro.”

              “Stan, we don’t know fer sure that-” Angie started.  Daisy burst into flames.  Her eyes widened.  “Oh. That’s- yep.  Daisy’s definitely a pyro.  Could- would ya put her out, darlin’?”

              “Got it.”  Stan stifled the flames covering his daughter.  She grinned at him, her clothes in tatters.  “Uh, I’ll call my mom.  I think she still has the fireproof clothes from when I was a kid.”

              “Sounds like a plan.”  Angie strode over to Stan.  She stroked Daisy’s hair.  “Baby girl, yer like yer daddy, huh?”  Daisy grabbed at Angie’s nose with flaming fingers.

              “Careful,” Stan said.  Angie poked Daisy’s nose.

              “I’m fine.  I’ll set up some breezes ‘round myself to put out any fires ‘fore they can burn me.” She grimaced.  “The crib she’s in is a bit…flammable, though.  Yer mom wouldn’t happen to have any fireproof bedcovers or somethin’, would she?”

              “I’ll ask what she did when I was a kid and setting things on fire every other minutes.”  Stan frowned. “I remember Shermie using a fire extinguisher on me a lot.”

              “That sounds like a good investment,” Lute piped up.  “What with two pyros in yer house and all.”  Angie rolled her eyes.  “Hey, do ya think Ma still has the power dampeners she used on us when we were kids?”

              “Oh!  She prob’ly does.  I’ll call.”

              “Hang on, you guys had power dampeners?” Stan asked.  Angie and Lute nodded.  “Did your siblings have to use them?”

              “Nah.  Just us,” Angie said.  She grinned. “There were two of us, developing strong elemental powers at the same time.  Ma actually had to quit villainy to keep an eye on us after we made a tornado.”

              “Didn’t yer mom have to deal with the same sort of sit’ation?” Lute asked.

              “Ford’s powers didn’t manifest until we were teenagers.  I was the only one with powers as a toddler.”  Stan’s eyes widened.  “Shit.  We’re gonna have two superpowered toddlers.  One of them sets things on fire.”

              “Yep.”  Lute patted Stan on the back.  He headed toward the front door, whistling merrily.  “Enjoy.”

----- 

              A cry came over the baby monitor.  Angie let out a wordless grumble.

              “Don’t worry, babe, I’m on it,” Stan said, his voice barely less bleary than hers.  Angie smiled as he kissed her forehead.  After he got out of bed, she sprawled across the rest of the mattress, relishing the residual warmth from his body heat.  She had just begun to doze off again when the peace was shattered by a shout from downstairs.

              “Ouch!  Fuck! Goddamm- what the hell?”  Angie jumped out of bed and literally flew downstairs, enlisting breezes to keep her aloft.  She stopped at the doorway of the nursery.  Her jaw dropped.

              “What in tarnation?” she breathed.  The nursery was coated in a thin layer of frost.  Stan sat on the floor, rubbing himself ruefully.  Angie helped him up.

              “Careful,” he said.  “Somehow the floor turned into a damn ice rink.”  Angie knelt to examine the wooden floor.  Like Stan had said, it was covered in ice.  “Who did this?  Was it one of your brothers?”

              “Nah.  The only one who could is Harper, and he’s in Los Angeles.”  Angie frowned.  “Hang on. Which one was crying?”

              “Uh, I think it was Daisy.”  Stan glanced over at Daisy’s crib.  Daisy was still fast asleep.  “Nope. Not her.  So it had to have been Danny.”

              “Yes, by process of elimination,” Angie said dryly.  Stan walked over to Danny’s crib, his bare feet melting the ice on the floor.  “Careful not to burn the wood, darlin’.”

              “I know.  Aw, shit.” Stan picked Danny out of her crib. “Princess, you okay?”

              “What’s wrong?”  Angie joined Stan by Danny’s crib, floating an inch off the floor to avoid slipping and falling.

              “She’s covered in ice,” Stan said.  Angie gasped softly.  Snowflakes stuck to Danny’s eyelashes and eyebrows, while her caramel-colored hair was full of icicles.  Stan ran his fingers through her hair, melting the ice.

              “Danica, baby,” Angie cooed, stroking her daughter’s cheek.  She frowned.  “She’s not actin’ upset.”

              “She was crying earlier.”

              “She’s not cryin’ now.  And she’s been clingy lately.  She might have just wanted attention,” Angie said.  Stan stared at Angie.

              “What are you saying?”

              “Maybe it wasn’t Harper who did this to the nursery.  Maybe it was Danny.  I mean, my grannie used to make it snow on Christmas.”

              “Goddammit,” Stan muttered.  “A hydro. Lute’s gonna be so smug about it.”

              “No, my grannie wasn’t hydrokinetic.  She had cryokinesis.  Controllin’ ice and snow and cold.”  Angie stroked Danny’s cheek again.  “It’s a pretty rare power.  Ya almost never see it outside of specific families.”

              “Well, I knew she was special,” Stan said.  Angie chuckled.

              “Yer right ‘bout that.”  She sighed. “Dang it, I was really hopin’ Danny would get my powers, since Daisy got yours.”

              “Next time.”

              “Next time?”  Angie raised an eyebrow at Stan.  “Darlin’, the girls ain’t even two.  We just got married a couple months ago.”

              “Hey, I need a son.”

              “Uh-huh.  Sure.”

              “I need to name someone Stan Jr.”

              “Uh-huh.  Whatever ya say.”  Angie kissed Danny’s forehead.  “I’m goin’ to go back to sleep.”  She kissed Stan on the cheek and glided out of the room.

              “That’s not a no!” Stan called after her.  He turned back to Danny.  “That wasn’t a no.  You and Daisy will end up with a little brother, I promise.”  Danny grinned.  She patted his face.  Stan let out a small gasp as frost built up on his skin.  “Damn, kid, you’re really giving new meaning to the term ‘cold hands’, huh.”  He let his skin warm up.  Danny began to cry.  “Shit.” He bounced her, but the crying didn’t die down.  “All right, all right.  Let’s go get something for you to freeze.  Something that isn’t my face.”

[written-rebellion]

Perfect Distractions

A/N: That chapter list is getting really long, huh? Man, how long have we been doing this and you guys are still reading? INSANE. I love you all, seriously. That being said, I might have to make separate masterlists for each part or something to clear up some space. Ideas?

Jamie and the men get drunk, Claire feels like she’s jumping through time, and as always, all the facts of this fanfic are contrived specifically to make fluffy university/modern-day au scenarios. Please let me know what you think!

Part One: [Chapter 1] [Chapter 2] | Part Two: [Chapter 1] [Chapter 2] [Chapter 3] [Chapter 4] | Part Three: [Chapter 1] [Chapter 2] [Chapter 3] | Part Four: [Chapter 1] [Chapter 2] [Chapter 3] | Part Five: [Chapter 1] [Chapter 2] [Chapter 3] [Chapter 4] | Part Six: [Chapter 1] [Chapter 2] [Chapter 3] | Part Seven: [Chapter 1] [Chapter 2] [Chapter 3] | Part Eight: [Chapter 1] [Chapter 2] [Chapter 3] [Chapter 4] | Part Nine: [Chapter 1] [Chapter 2]

Part Nine: Empty | Chapter 3

Time moved differently, as it always seemed to, in the days between Christmas and New Years. It felt as if she were living simply moment to moment, blinking into and out of scenes like skipping through movie scenes, while the events in between hurried past. Days that started and ended in Jamie’s arms melted together until Claire found herself counting the seconds down to the new year, surrounded by the jovial, if not tipsy, Fraser-Murray clan.

Christmas festivities with the Frasers had been a proper delight and quite literally everything she’d ever wanted.

But Hogmanay was so much more.

It was like the whole estate was bathed in a soft glow, tinted in gold like she’d fallen into a film right before the credits started rolling to the tune of Auld Lang Syne. There was a wistful look in nearly everyone’s eyes. The sort of glassy far-off gaze often accompanied with reminiscing and reflecting on the events of the year past.

At present, her back was snugly pressed into Jamie’s warm chest as they rocked gently from side to side in time with everyone’s countdown. Her mind, like everyone else’s surely, was elsewhere.

“10…!”

She’d tackled him in the library. He walked her home.

“9…!”

His pebbles left a permanent dent in her reading lamp.

“8…!”

He’d carried her up to her room.

“7…!”

She kicked him in the shin.

“6…!”

She kissed him under the tree.

“5…” The science lab.

“4…” The fight.

“3…” The train.

“2…” The guest room…

“1—"

His mouth found hers as a whoop went up. The world around them was celebrating, but it all seemed like mute white noise as she smiled against Jamie’s lips.

“Happy New Year, love,” she murmured.

He tucked a curl behind her ear, tracing its shell with his thumb, and Claire felt the rest of the room fade away. The other voices were a distant echo.

“And you, mo chridhe.”

Then, in a blink, she was in the kitchen washing plates with Jenny. The grandfather clock in the sitting room chimed 2 a.m. and Claire yawned.

“Aye, I think ye’re right lass,” said Jenny with a definitive clink from the ceramic plates. “The dishes willna be going anywhere in the morning.”

Claire hummed sleepily in agreement as they dried their hands and walked back to the hall. She was just about to take the first stair when Jenny’s hand tugged at her sleeve.

“Wha?” She was met with Jenny’s slim finger urging her silence, those Fraser blue eyes glinting in amusement. Jenny jerked her head in the direction of the sitting room, where low voices were murmuring and just beginning to gain volume.

“Look at that flush!” Murtagh’s gruff laugh filled the house. “The lad still canna hold his drink!”

“Get on wi’ ye!” Jamie shot back with only the slightest of slurs.

Not exactly helping your case, darling, she thought with a smile.

“Ach, cut him some slack, Murtagh,” said Ian, “I’ve a feeling that flush isna all to do with the whisky.”

“Not this whisky anyway.”

Now it was Claire’s turn to flush, looking anywhere but Jenny’s increasingly amused eyes.

“Ye dinna have to listen, Claire,” she said, stepping past her to start on the stairs. “They’ll likely get rowdier before it gets better, and the lads will bring Jamie up when they’re done.”

Claire smiled at that but made no move otherwise, and Jenny shrugged, taking her leave.

“Suit yerself, dinna stay up too late.”

Claire sat at the foot of the stairs, chin resting on clasped hands, as she floated in and out of both consciousness and the conversation in the next room.

“Christ, lad,” Murtagh again, “I havena seen ye like this since—what was that lass’ name? The blonde one?”

“Annalise?” Ian offered.

“Oh god,” Jamie said, exasperated, and Claire raised an eyebrow.

“Aye, that’s her. That puir lass ye wouldna leave alone,” Murtagh chuckled.

“That was years ago, ye auld goat!” argued Jamie above his godfather’s jeering. “And Claire is nothing like Annalise.”

“Aye, for one, this lass actually likes ye back.”

Claire heard a shuffling noise then, and knew immediately that Jamie had stood from his chair when Ian’s voice piped up.

“Now, now,” he said, “look at the eyes, Murtagh. Ye ken that look.”

Silence for a moment, and Claire was tempted to poke her head in. Luckily, some sort of Gaelic curse from Murtagh stopped her.

“Aye, I’m quite familiar wi’ it,” he said, softer this time. “It’s Claire, then?”

Jamie chuckled before he answered. Claire hadn’t realized she was holding her breath.

“Aye,” he said finally, sounding distant, dazed. “Claire is… She’s no’ some wee grade school crush, she’s—She’s it for me.”

Her heart thudded against her chest.

“I’m happy for ye, Jamie, truly,” said Ian. “Now it’s just Murtagh left in the Single’s Club.”

Another Gaelic curse and the two younger men burst out laughing

“What happened to that French lass?” said Jamie, “Suzette, aye?”

There were more Gaelic replies and Claire shook her head with a sleepy smile, finally making her way back to Jamie’s room.

Another blink and she was startled awake by Jamie drunkenly shuffling in and immediately snuggling into her on the bed.

“Sassenach,” he not-whispered into her ear, “are ye awake?”

He reeked of alcohol. She squirmed in his arms, but didn’t turn to face him.

“No,” she mumbled, pushing her face deeper into her pillow.

“I have sssomethin’ ‘mportant to tell ye, lass.” He shook her shoulder lightly. “Claire? Mo chridhe?” He paused, trying to figure out if she’d fallen asleep again.

Coming up short, he pressed a kiss where her jaw met her neck and nuzzled the spot with his nose.

“I love ye… sae much, mo nighean donn.”

She smiled into the pillow and didn’t hear another sound until she was awakened the next morning by some sort of subterranean rumbling at her shoulder.

Even sleep went by in a blink.

She turned, his hold on her now loosened, but was met with a mess of red curls instead of the usual sleepy smile.

“Aww, is someone a little hungover?” she giggled, running her fingers through his hair. “Perhaps we should go for a run, hmm?”

“Ye’re too loud,” he mumbled into her collarbone, tightening his arms around her once again as if to still her shaking laughter.

“Murtagh’s right, you really can’t hold your drink.”

An interrogative reverberated through him as he looked up, propping his chin up on her shoulder.

“When did ye—?” He froze and she nodded. “What… what exactly did ye hear?”

She could tease him mercilessly and, God, would it be easy. Wouldn’t leave Annalise alone, would you? Not just a grade school crush, am I? But—

I love ye… sae much, mo nighean donn.

It came unannounced like a dream floating to the surface and rippling away all her other thoughts.

She reached for him, stroking his cheek with her thumb.

“Nothing I didn’t already know.”

There was that sleepy smile she loved waking up to. He leaned in to kiss her but she recoiled immediately at the first whiff of stale alcohol on his breath.

“Aye, I ken, sorry.” He chuckled, flipping back the blankets to get out of bed. “I’ll just brush my teeth, lass, then we can go for our run.”

Claire sat bolt upright, staring dumbfounded at him as he stood from the bed.

“What? No, I was joking.”

He cast her a look before pulling his shirt on.

“I’m not, ye ken that’s my hangover cure.”

“But I’m not hungover!” He was laughing in earnest now and Claire was mourning her missed opportunity to tease him.

“Aye, and I wasna when we went on our first run.” He got up in her face and she pushed him away by the cheek.

“You do know this is going to end with you getting kicked in the shin again, don’t you?”

He rubbed a hand down his jaw and then – goddamm bastard – smirked at her.

“Actually, if memory serves, it’ll end with a kiss.”

He took her head in both hands to quickly, and thoroughly, illustrate his point. Claire pursed her lips against his until he pulled away.

“You smell like the bottom of a wine barrel, you arse!”

“Aye,” he nodded with an infuriatingly disarming grin. “And the sooner ye roll me outside, the sooner we can come back to bed and—”

“Alright!” she conceded, pushing his cheek from her again. “Just go brush your damn teeth!”

“Love ye, mo chridhe,” he called, finally stepping into the bathroom, “sae much.”

Read Chapter 4

[johannesviii]

Mad Dogs And Englishmen

Some highlights of the last EDA I’ve read (Mad Dogs and Englishmen).

I took these screens while reading, along with my reactions. As usual, this is full of spoilers.

I opened this book two months ago or so, started to read it, and put it down. I wasn’t in the mood for something silly, because some unpleasant things were happening in my life at that time.

The trouble is, even more unpleasant things happened, and kept happening, and two months later, I was like: fuck this, I need something silly right now. Let’s read the book with the talking dogs.

I read it in two days.

It doesn’t have the amazing, joyful worldbuilding of The Scarlet Empress, and it’s not as experimental and surreal as The Blue Angel. It doesn’t even seem to have an actual message. But it’s fun, it never takes itself seriously, it has a ton of entertaining characters and situations, and some scenes are completely hysterical to picture in your head. Exactly what you need after The Adventuress of Henrietta Street, and exactly what I needed in my life right now. 9/10

I don't doubt this for a second.

Also, I love the fact they didn’t care if the 100th novel had a bright pink cover with a dog wielding a laser gun on it.

I want to read that other book, now.

The what

I really like this idea of a book that took a lifetime to write.

Professor Alid Jag and Doctor Stellus Pontin officially have the best names.

Tag yourself I'm Stellus

Oh noooooooo

Okay, so... this story starts with accidental murder.

A typical day for Eight.

Good morning, Fitz! Eight has already accidentally killed someone!

Anji must be so tired of this bullshit.

Implying you are competent.

Well I'm sad now

Okay WHAT

That was lovely, and I kinda teared up??

I like this character!

HERESY

I’m still not used to this, by the way.

I can confirm.

Anji and Fitz are like “oh no, here we go again”.

azsdfghhgfggff

Wait wait wait, wasn’t this in the audio Find And Replace?

I don’t know why, but imagining this scene cracks me up.

It's like discovering Lord of the Rings is now suddenly all about possums.

Was that ever in doubt

I was just joking about the Lord of the Rings parallel, guys...

Is... is that the in-universe version of Narnia?

Welcome to the TARDIS, Flossie!

I hope nothing too horrible happens to you.

EXCUSE ME, THIS IS TERRIFYING

Okay oh shit where do I even start:

Emily is a companion we’ve never heard about before.

The Doctor forgot she existed.

However, ‘1960s teenage gear’ and the fact she doesn’t recognise Eight suggests she was a friend of One, or maybe Two. We don’t really know the Doctor’s age at that point, but there’s a good chance she’s been there for at least 800 years.

I keep joking about people getting lost in the TARDIS forever. Suddenly that joke sounds horrifying.

It gets worse. This is Eight’s original TARDIS, but some disturbing shit happened to it over the course of the EDAs.

So, presumably, Emily was there when it got turned into a small cube and slowly regrew for an entire century. There’s a good chance she was reconstituted with the rest of the TARDIS after being destroyed/crushed/killed when the TARDIS was similarly destroyed/crushed/killed.

It gets even worse.

Remember the Edifice in The Ancestor Cell? That gigantic bone-like version of the TARDIS where everything looked either dead, ossified or disturbingly deformed? Well, she was somewhere in there.

Sweet dreams.

Well, that’s Classic Who’s budget for you.

So we have the in-universe version of Lord of the Rings, Narnia, and now this guy. That could be various authors, actually.

Mental picture:

IT HAS BEGUN.

This is so fucking weird.

Hmmmm.

There’s a good chance they can watch the episode A Christmas Carol, then.

Wait, do they have human pets? That’s a disturbing thought in an otherwise weird and funny concept.

Of course he is.

Hilarious but still fucking weird.

Asfdfssgsdfsdfsfdfsshdgfff

gfdsstjsyjyfghfff FITZ, NO.

I mean yeah, it’s true, I know you’ve been in far worse situations, but you’re enjoying this a bit too much.

AQZDSTGSGFWSGFSGFAAAFFF FITZ NO

Oh. Great. They filmed Lord of the Rings with dogs.

Well I prefered the LotR version anyway.

I’m still not used to this whole dog-with-hands thing either.

No, you’re not.

Oh. I forgot about her.

Same, Fitz, same.

I like Flossie. Can we keep Flossie?

“We are poodles, Doctor. Of course we know of such things.”

This fucking book is hysterical.

Oh no you didn’t.

Ooooh they're gonna meet the author!

Don't make me sad in a book with talking dogs

I SAID “DON’T”

“lugubrious precision”

STILL TOO FUCKING SOON

That it, that’s Fitz in a nutshell.

Meanwhile, Anji wonders if she really wants to go home.

Okay, okay, I know this is a very long screen, but I love this dialogue.

Oooohhhh, okay, that’s how he fits in the plot.

I love this.

Oh, so Freer rewrote the book? Who’s Freer anyway? Why is he doing this

You're acting stranger than him, Doctor.

Fitz what the fuck are you wearing

What is her role in all this?

FITZ. NO.

(I think this book has the highest amount of “Fitz no” moments in all the EDA range... so far)

Flossie is brilliant and I love her.

She’s brilliant AND hilarious.

I LOVE THIS WHOLE FUCKING SCENE

Meanwhile Anji has just discovered the best timeline.

I guess this guy is Georges Lucas in this timeline.

Whoops!

The guy who writes the in-universe version of Narnia featuring Iris and her bus instead of a wardrobe based his Iris Wildthyme character on Baba Yaga. This is the best thing ever.

Have you really

SUDDENLY, MORE TALKING DOGS

I can’t fault her logic.

FLOSSIE NO DON’T EXPLAIN EVERYTHING

To be honest I would have done the same but still

Hold on, what

(I’m sorry this was way too tempting)

Wait, what’s going on? What is the animator’s role in that timeline then?

Well, that was embarrassing, Doctor

What

WHAAAAAT

Holy fuck

DON’T TALK TRASH TO MY SON

WAIT WAIT WAIT WAIT

IS BRENDA SOOBIE SECRETLY IRIS WILDTHYME

This is all getting very complicated, especially for a book about talking dogs.

Alid Jag isn’t dead and he’s using a human as a puppet

What the fuck is going on

It’s a bus, isn’t it.

I FUCKING KNEW IT.

I concur, too

The in-universe equivalent of Harryhausen brought his entire army of stopmotion creatures to attack the in-universe equivalent of Lucas and I absolutely love it.

Meanwhile, Tyler is still faceless.

I feel like there’s other, parallel adventures going on somewhere on this train. What’s up with the hat full of kittens?

This goddamm book, I swear

I LAUGHED SO FUCKING HARD

No, actually.

azertytresdfghfdfg what

Fitz is like “oh no not this bullshit again”

Not sure if this is a very good or a very bad idea.

Pfffft “Imperial Poodles”

The Hoth battle, except better.

So wait, is he the Master or just a guy who likes to be called ‘the master’?

Is... is he just an annoying fan of the book who wants to rewrite the canon to put all his headcanons in it

Laughed way too hard, again.

And not a single fuck was given by Eight that day.

Only in a Magrs book!

Oh, ok then.

They are so casual about it.

Oh, so that’s how he got his face back.

I laughed.

AND NOT A SINGLE FUCK WAS GIVEN THAT DAY²

Pinking shears that can cut through space and time. Just accept it, Anji.

NO IT WASN’T

Don’t give him ideas!

“When he was a very old man”

Eh eh

FUCKING SAME, NOËL

The main villains are all the people who were supposedly dead at the beginning of the story asdfghgfdfghgfdfg

Does anyone care what Fitz thinks

Ok.

Donna would be happy to know the Planet of the Hats and the Planet of the Boys probably exist, then.

Okay okay I know this is supposed to be a cool explanation but the resulting mental picture is hilarious

Don't spoil us the ending, Noël

This fucking dude invoked a poodle during a black mass. I can’t.

Why is this book so funny

THIS IS A TRAINWRECK

It’s Lord of the Rings again!

Thank you Captain Obvious!

Well, yes, sort of

Aww Iris noooo don’t cry

STOP MAKING ME SAD

THIS IS TOO CUTE, STOP

THIS FUCKING BOOK STARTS AND ENDS WITH ACCIDENTAL MURDER

Actually, Narnia would be a lot more fun with a double-decker bus.

So, in the end, Flossie is still alive at the end of this book, and even if she won’t stay in the TARDIS, she gets to travel with Iris instead! Even better!

I'm so happy for her :D

HE REALISED IRIS IS LIKE HIM

I’M SO HAPPY

THIS IS A GREAT ENDING A++

I TAKE IT BACK, THE LAST PAGE IS EVEN BETTER

THANK YOU MR. MAGRS FOR THIS GIFT

[shadowhunterwizard]

I am so done with the United States of America! And I am so done with this past year! (note: this is just about events that directly impacted my life this past year) (a rant, by me)

• so in the summer right after 3rd grade (to give you perspective, I just finished 9th grade), my father (who was abusive to my mom and also a horrible parent) left and abandoned my family, leaving my mom to take care of me and my sister. Then, in 6th grade, he suddenly started a whole court thing trying to get partial custody of me and my sister (at least I think it was sudden, but since we were so young, my mom never really told told us every detail). After months of hell, the judge decided that we had to have like 12 or so monitored visits with him, one every week. The reason those visits stopped was because he went to a beach party and overdosed on drugs and was taken to the ICU, and my mom (thankfully) put her foot down on visiting him there. We thought it was all over and we were untroubled by him for the next few years. Now this is all background to show that he is a horrible person (even though it barely even scratches the surface) and that he put us through that hell. Then, almost a year ago we received an official court order that said that he was taking us to court AGAIN for partial custody over me and my sister. Now his terms were that we would have to live with him on weekends, every Jewish holiday (he claims he’s Jewish, my mom is Christian, and I am an atheist), every spring break, and every other winter break. Oh, by the way, he lives in Las Vegas (a different state than us). So that would make us travel to another state very free period we have except for summers and every other winter. So we fought against him in court; fortunately, this time me and my sister didn’t have to miss school and go to the courthouse (instead we had a wonderful childrens’ attorney). It put so much stress on us, but we powered through it and we won; the judge said that my father will never bother us again.

• we live in Southern California, and there were a bunch of wildfires last year that were pretty close to home. One was so close that we actually had to evacuate and go to a fire shelter at the nearby community college. Looking back on it, it wasn’t too bad, but it was very scary at the time.

TRIGGER WARNING ⚠️⚠️⚠️⚠️⚠️⚠️⚠️⚠️

• then, about a month after the last threatening (for us) fire was one of the worst things of this past horrible year. On November 14th, 2019, at about 7:35 16-year-old Nathaniel Berhow opened fire on the quad of my high school, Saugus High. He shot 5 people plus himself. 14-year-old Dominic Blackwell and 15-year-old Gracie Anne Muehlberger were killed, as well as Berhow. I was in band that day, and we were independently practicing for auditions taking place the next week for concert season. I (a percussionist) was practicing timpani (a deep big drum) and I was at a really loud part of the music when I noticed everyone suddenly became silent. At the same time, my sister (who was near me) shot me a scared look that I to mean to stop playing. Then I noticed a clarinet girl (I later found out that she was outside when the shooting started and ran into the band room to warn us) with a horrified look on her face. My sister said that there were gunshots. I was in such a deep shock that I put away my timpani mallets before following into the band director’s office. We (a smallish group of people, and the band director himself - the rest of the band hid in the adjoining music library and other practice rooms) stayed in that office for what felt like hours, and I thought I met hearing gunshots, but they must have been something else because the shooting lasted only 16 seconds. Sixteen seconds. That’s all it took for 3 people to be killed, and for me to develop a jumpiness whenever I hear so much as a small pop. Sixteen goddamm seconds. TRIGGER WARNING OVER ⚠️ ⚠️⚠️⚠️⚠️⚠️

• a few days before my family received the court order for the father that abandoned us, we also received a notice that our house, the only home I’ve ever known, was going to be forclosed on. A year after the first court ordeal with my father, my mom’s job at a hospital as the head psychologist was eliminated and she was layed off. She tried so much throughout the years to get another job, but she just couldn’t get one. And so our house was foreclosed. After the school shooting, our school had a week off, plus Thanksgiving break immediately after; so 2 weeks away. While most students probably used that time to heal and hang out with friends, my family had to have a big house sale to sell our stuff. After that, we tried listing our big furniture and other things we couldn’t keep on various apps. We also donated as much as we could. Meanwhile, my mom did the best she could to keep delaying the foreclosure date. Then, in late February, we got a notice that said that we absolutely had to move out by March 4th. Me and my sister missed a bunch of school days (I know a lot people would love this, but I love school and always hate when I have to miss it) so that we could go looking for apartments. We finally found an apartment that is as cheap as we could find in this extremely expensive city and that also accepts people with foreclosures. The only problem was that the unit wasn’t available until the 11th. So we had to rent storage units to put all of our stuff and stay in a crappy motel for a week. On March 11th, we finally moved in to our small apartment (we missed school again). We were so busy that we didn’t realize until we were going to get takeout for dinner that that was our dog’s birthday, and that we didn’t celebrate how we also had in the past, and hopefully will in the future.

• then, the COVID-19 pandemic hit, making our live in our new, tiny, WiFi-less (at first) apartment. Although we are bored out of our minds, what bothers us it that 10 days after we were supposed to move out of our house, California lawmakers decreed that there would be no foreclosures until after the pandemic. If we were able to stay TEN more days, we would have been able to keep our house for another few months.

Now, I did not write this rant about this past year for sympathy or pity or attention or anything else. I wrote it because there are so many things wrong with this country and the political leaders (a certain one in particular...) that I believe were highlighted in this last horrible year. We have some leaders in this country that believe that climate change is fake, or a hoax, or whatever else they call it. It isn’t fake!! It is actually happening and causing more destruction, like the fires SoCal and Australia experienced last year. People who ignore science should not be leading our country, or anything at all!! Also, guns aren’t needed! People are taking guns that a lot of the time they can legally buy and use them to kill people. The solution isn’t to have more guns out, it is having MUCH less guns, and in the hands of people who have undergone background checks and tests to make sure that they are to be trusted with them. We aren’t even saying we should take away all guns, to uphold your precious Second Ammendment!! And this stupid economical system is TORTURE to so many people. Capitalists think that making money is better than giving people the necessary elements of living - water, food, and shelter. People who value money over other people’s f***ing livelihoods have no human decency whatsoever and should just leave this country. Preferably to the bottom of the ocean.

Thanks for reading my early morning rant that I did not proofread, and... yeah