#i don’t like the kelly last name problem

[puck-bunnies]

kisses down low

nico hischier x fem!reader

warnings: nsfw 18+, basically pure word porn, oral sex (f receiving), praising, ass and thigh slapping, use of pet names (baby, pretty girl, good girl), light teasing, not proof read

“i like my kisses down low, makes me arch my back. when you give it to me slow, baby just like that.”

word count: 2.5k

♪ - kisses down low, kelly rowland

sounds of the midnight traffic fills the small apartment. i keep the room dark, the only light is the soft glow of the city’s lights mixed with the vanilla candle burning on the bedside table. a soft hum fills the room, the silence killing me, but so does the suspense. when will nico walk through the door?

he’s been on the road for quite some time, finally coming home for the games at the rock. i wait for his arrival, laying on top of the messily made covers. my legs are bare with the mini sweat shorts i wear, the bottom of my ass on display when i roll onto my side. my top is only covered with a soft pink bra, cupping me perfectly for eyes to linger on. i’m dressed perfectly for nico’s arrival.

i watch out the window, looking at all the lights glowing in the apartments around me. every light indicating a different family, different life, different problems. every car driving around the streets, ones wanting to get home to their family, get to a club, or just aimlessly searching for purpose.

the world is so huge, so many different lives happening at once. mine and everyones decisions molding everybody else’s lives, not just our own.

my thoughts suddenly snap out of my head as i hear the distant front door opening. a deep voice softly whispering my name, searching for my body that lays still in the bedroom. my eyes stay trained on the skyline, my ears listen to the apartment around me.

the footsteps getting ever so closer, the whisper of my name filling the halls. it’s all stopped when the next door opens, my bedroom door cracking open as brown eyes peer around them. i don’t see them, my back facing the door, but my body is not shielded from their sight.

“y/n?” nico whispers behind me, i look over my shoulder. even through i knew he was there, seeing his face ignites a spark in me. i raise myself in the bed, the mattress sinking with the weight of me on my knees.

nico rushes to me, pulling me in a tight hug. my head nuzzles in his chest, though i’m careful not to mess up my perfectly done makeup. the black hoodie he’s wearing doesn’t do much to cover his muscles, i feel him flex around me as his arms pull me closer to him by my waist.

his hands make their way to my waist, nonchalant picking me up into his arms. my legs wrap around his hips, letting me be completely engulfed in his warmth. “i missed you pretty girl.” he whispers into my hair, placing a soft kiss onto my head.

“i missed you more nico.” i pry my head from his chest, looking up into his eyes. his big brown eyes are overtaken my emotions, love fills them, hints of lust lingering in the shadows.

i’d be lying if i said that nico going on roadies doesn’t take a toll on our sex lives. the two of us aren’t much into the whole sexting thing or doing anything over facetime. he’s too paranoid that we’d be caught, or something somehow would get leaked. so, we keep it all for when he comes back home.

and fuck is the wait worth it.

last time i swear i was almost fucked to death. the what seemed like endless rounds of orgasms, liquids littering the bedsheets so much so, that we had to sleep on the couch.

this time, no doubt, will be no different. nico usually taking control and me going along with his demands. what we both like.

i can see the temptation in his eyes now. the way he looks at me, the stare down making me intimidatingly little. his hands cupping my ass to keep me clung to his body, he softly massages each cheek, rolling the flesh in his palms.

my teeth bite down on my bottom lip, nico’s strength picks my body up higher, our eyes looking straight into each others. his face inches ever so closer to mine, hot breath fanning over my face sending a chilled shiver down my spine.

it takes him all of two seconds to close the distance, pressing his lips to mine. his finger nails softly dig into the skin of my ass, causing a silent moan to fall from my mouth, nico taking it as the perfect opportunity to stick his tongue in my mouth.

my hands which were resting along nico’s broad shoulders move their way up his neck, threading my fingers in his hair. nails rubbing his scalp and slowly pulling at his soft brown roots.

i can feel nico’s cocky smile across my lips, the way i play with his hair makes him go wild. from the way my fingers pull at my hair, i receive a playful smack on my ass. the sensitive skin turning bright red with a handprint across the flesh.

he backs his head away from mine, letting us both catch our breaths that our lungs crave. it’s then when nico’s eyes wander down my body, his eyes linger on my perky tits that start to fall out of my dainty bra. hands gripping harsher at the bottom of my exposed ass, “you really know how to dress for me, don’t you baby?” he whispers. “all this for me?”

my bottom lip finds it’s way back between my teeth, biting down on the flush pink skin. a nod of my head answers nico’s previous question, “only you.” i whisper back. my words only add to the proud smile plastered on his face, licking his lips as his dark eyes stay on mine.

my body suddenly drops, a squeal leaving as i crash with the mattress. a chuckle is the only thing i hear from above me, watching as my eyes blow wide with surprise. nico doesn’t make a move towards me, standing above me in almost a degrading way. his stare is cold, but greatly heated with lust, making me feel small in his gaze.

he finally begins to move, calloused pads of his fingers run up my smooth legs, shivers of my skin and little whimpers leave my throat. my jaw clenching at his teasing actions. his eyes follow his fingers, up the surface of my calves to my thighs.

“nico.” a soft whimper leaks from my throat in the sound of his name. “please.” i shyly beg out. the embarrassment of my pleads creep up to my cheeks, rose blush coating my skin.

he lowers himself just above my legs, his hot breath beginning to fan against my thighs. “what baby?” he teases, hovering just above my skin. “you’re gonna have to use words now.”

his hands round around my ankles, holding them loosely as he guides my feet up on the bed, my knees now in the air above. lips pressing a soft kiss on my inner knee, goosebumps form on my skin from the teasingly little contact.

my teeth bite down in a clench, squeezing my jaw to find myself begging once again. a breath shoots through my teeth, my chest rising and falling with deep sighs. “please, touch me nico.” i plead, feeding nico’s desire for me.

“that wasn’t so hard, was it?” he mocks. his large hands grip the sides of my thighs with great force, making me gasp from his sudden change of ways. he lowers himself farther down on the bed, lowering to his knees to get a perfect sight of me above him.

i don’t know why a whimper leaves my mouth, maybe it’s the sight of him looking up at me, like he owns me. or it’s his harsh grip that could leave bruises on my skin marking me as his. “my girls so needy, hm?” nico snaps me out of my own mind. his one hand leaves my thigh before coming back onto it with a forceful slap. i soft gasp mixed with a moan rips through the air, his hands already doing their work to soothing my burning thigh.

“you like that don’t you?” he teases once again. his lips draw down to my inner thigh, pressing a more forceful kiss down on my flesh. “me marking up your body.” nico elaborates. “as all mine.”

curses murmur from my voice, hands flattening by my sides on the mattress, staring to ball the covers into my fists. nico works closer to where my body needs the most attention, sloppy kisses tracing across my skin. i feel myself clench around nothing, needing to be filled by nico.

his hands snake up my legs, stopping at the waistband of my shorts, starting to teasingly pull them off of me. he works slow, keeping his dark brown eyes burning into mine. i suck the inside of my cheek between my teeth, watching as he slides the shorts off of me, keeping my bottom only covered in my soaked panties.

a smirk creeps up on nico’s face, swiping a stripe up my aching slit. “shit baby, so soaked for me already?”

i can only comprehend enough to let out a soft groan in response. he starts to rub tight circles, against my clothed clit, watching me as my chest starts to softly heave. nico presses down harder, my feet stomp down deep into the mattress, toes staring to curl.

my walls continue to clench around nothing, craving for something to fill me up as nico continues his teasingly slow actions. his hot breath fans against my pussy, the sides of his head almost squeezed by my thighs as i force my hips closer to him. a smile crosses his face once again, forcing my hips back down with his large hands, his pressure on my clit disappearing.

“gotta be patient now, pretty girl.” he hooks two fingers on each sides of my panties, pulling them down my smoothed legs to throw them along with my shorts on the floor. the only thing covering my body is my bra, leaving my breasts to almost pool out of them for nico’s eyes. “such a pretty little pussy.” he praises, pressing a soft kiss against my clit.

he adds another one before kitty licking my sensitive bud, tongue swirling around it before venturing back down. his tongue slips into my wet folds, flicking his tongue to hit the spots he knows i like most. my back arches softly off of the mattress, hips bucking up to get more of his long tongue.

nico's hands grip harder at my hips, pressing the bone to force them to stay stuck on the mattress. i force myself to crawl up on my elbows, looking down at nico, watching as he starts to slurp on my pussy. his one hand moves from my hip to my thigh, gripping harsher at my skin, finger tips pressing so hard they start to turn white.

he moves his hand off of my thighs before smacking them back onto my plushy skin. a shocked whimper comes out of my mouth, nico's eyes search mine, looking for anything telling him that it hurt you. but in all honesty, it turns you on even more. the harsh red hand print that he soothes by rolling the flesh in his palm.

nico knows to continue his work with his tongue when you thrust you hips back onto his tongue, needing more of him as he'd once slowed down his actions.

curses mumble out of my mouth, jaw clenching and hips buckling. “oh shit.” my hands move from the balls of covers in them to his hair, combing his long brown hair back before tugging on it softly.

my hips start to move again mindlessly, my insides begging for more than nico is giving me. “you have to be a good girl and stay still now. i want to taste you.” he hums against my pussy, my walls vibrating with the vibration of his voice.

i can feel the familiar buckling of my stomach, a knot tightening so hard I feel like I could break any second. my breaths get shorter and quicker, chest heaving up and down as my fingers tug harder at nico's hair, egging him on further.

he knows that i'm close to finishing, teasing me by slowing down his actions to a painfully gentle pace. my mind goes hazy, mad at nico for teasing me when i'm so close to coming undone, but also praising him for making me feel this way. thighs squeezing his face closer to my begging core.

this time, nico backs away from me completely, looking up at me with a cocky smile. "what did i say?" he asks, his big brown eyes burning holes into mine as i clench my jaw. i'm so close to my orgasm and now nico is wanting to play with me.

all my pride is easily stripped away from me as i find myself pathetically begging once again. "i'll stay still, i promise. i need you.. shit." my breath hitches as i hold onto my orgasm that's almost in my grasp.

nico almost laughs at my embarrassingly pitiful pleads, putting his face where it once was, sliding his tongue into my clenching hole while he places his thumb on my clit. he moves his thumb in quick and tight circles, now determined to make me orgasm above him.

my head rolls back by the refound pleasure, muscles tensing up as moans release from my mouth once again. my eyes screw shut, squeezing them harshly as i can feel my orgasm seconds away. though i don't look at him, i can feel nico's harsh gaze on me, staring determinedly up at me.

i open my mouth more to speak, but noting can come out except for moans and quiet whimpers. nico nods against me, "i know." he whispers against me, with his words i feel myself coming undone. my muscles tightening before completely relaxing, my mind blurry and sight darkened when i finally open my eyes.

he helps me ride my thigh, keeping the same pace before gradually slowing down. he unlatches his mouth from my aching folds, leaving his thumb to draw lazy circles around my clit. my liquids leak down nico's chin, coating the soft stubble that covers his jaw.

crawling back up my body, he places a soft kiss on my breasts that overflow from my bra, before working up to my face. "you did so good baby. taste so good." he whispers in my ear, hot breath fanning my neck.

nico's lips aggressively press onto mine, the faint taste of myself lingering between our heated and passionate kiss. his tongue sliding into my mouth, hands harshly gripping at my hips once again.

[dilemmaontwolegs]

Not A Verstappen: Gridlocked {8}

Pairing: Charles Leclerc x fem!driver!reader x Lando Norris Summary: It's hard to stay mad at family for long but forgiveness doesn't come from everyone. Warnings: 18+ only, swearing, angst WC: 2k F1 Masterlist NAV: Sibling Rivalry One || Two || Three NAV: Gridlocked One || Two || Three || Four || Five || Six || Seven || Eight || Nine

“That was my race line. I had the inside line!” 

“Snooze you lose, Max Emilian.” You flipped your visor up as you faced the teenage boy who confronted you. “You're lucky this was just practice.”

“Don’t think I’ll go easy on you in the race just because you are my sister.”

“Half sister.” You corrected as you pulled your helmet off, making the older boy's cheeks turn pink at the reminder. “Don’t cry too much when you get beaten by a girl, Verstappen.”

“I’m 15 years old, little girl,” he said as he looked down at you, “I don’t cry.”

You glanced at the backdoor and debated taking your chances with the six foot fence blocking your escape. With your luck you would probably break your ankle and miss the rest of the race season, something you would prefer not to happen. 

“Run?” Lando double checked as you heard car doors closing loudly, the thuds reverberating in the quiet neighbourhood. The option was taken as you failed to make a decision before the door opened without a knock. Seeing you tense, he placed a hand on your knee under the table and gave it a squeeze. “Brave face, baby.”

The slap of feet running on the wooden floors stole your attention but they weren’t heavy enough to be Max’s and you turned with open arms to catch the toddler. 

“Hello Penelope,” you greeted her as she climbed up onto your lap and waved to Lando and Charles. “You’ve grown again!”

“P, what have I said about running off,” Max huffed as he stepped inside the doorway, stopping under the archway that connected to the dining room. 

Covering Penelope’s ears, you pinned your brother with a glare. “Dick move bringing P into this.”

He shrugged innocently as he buried his hands in the pockets of his shorts. “Kelly’s working, and she misses you.” 

It had been a while since you spent time with her since you didn’t go to Max’s place as often, opting to spend your time with Charles and Lando. Letting your hands fall away, you pointed to the kitchen. “There’s some muffins in there if you want. Are you hungry?”

She nodded eagerly and Lando pushed his chair out, offering his hand for her. “I can help you, P. Want a glass of milk too?”

“Nice shirt,” Max said with a little laugh as he noticed what Lando was wearing. “Did you lose a bet?”

“Maybe I just like wearing my boyfriend's clothes,” he said with a daring arch of his brow. “Is that a problem?”

Max looked at his feet with the smallest shake of his head. 

“I have a boyfriend too!” P exclaimed as she jumped around excitedly, tugging him out of the room. “His name is Brodie and he lets me use his crayons.”

You shared a smile with Charles as the two chatted their way to the kitchen, their voices growing even quieter when the backdoor opened and they took their muffins outside to eat. The moment the door clicked shut the smile fell from your face.

“What are you doing here, Max?” 

“I didn’t get a chance to talk to you after the race,” he said as he walked into the room, his eyes scanning the walls to see if there were any new pictures since he last visited. “Nice win.”

“Bullshit,” you scoffed as you pushed your chair out and rose to your feet, not liking how much smaller you felt with him standing. “I should have crashed out at least three times. It was just luck that I finished the race.”

Charles’ brows pinched at the news but you placed your hand in his to ease his mind as he stood by your side. 

“You don’t believe in luck, you make your own.”

“Flattery won’t get you anywhere, klootzak.”

“I don’t know what that means but I’m going to assume it wasn’t nice,” your mother tutted as she stepped into the room, making her way to your brother. “Hello, Max, nice to see you again.”

“Is it though?” you muttered as she gave him a hug, her disappointed eyes landing on you. 

“Yes, it’s always nice to see family.”

“It was a rhetorical question.”

“It’s nice to see you too,” Max said, completely ignoring your comments. “I hope you don’t mind us just showing up at your door.”

“Not at all, I hardly get any visitors anymore.”

You felt guilty hearing those words and vowed to come home more often in the future, especially since it was a place where you didn’t have to hide your unorthodox relationship. 

“Well if he wants to stay then there is something he needs to do first,” you said as you pointed to Max and then your mother. “Apologise. Now.”

“That’s not necess-”

“Just because you have been called worse doesn’t make it alright,” you interrupted her before turning back to your brother. “Max, apologise or leave.”

You felt Charles’ hand settled on the small of your back, the warm reassurance that he was by your side. You focused on that hand as the silence drew out, your mother sighing with defeat and Max staring emotionlessly back at you.

“What did you think I came here for?” he asked, sounding mildly bored. 

“I never know with you, maybe you wanted to lose another fight.”

“No fighting under my roof,” your mother warned. “Now I’m going to put the kettle on and everyone is going to take a seat and calm down.”

“I didn’t come here to fight,” Max admitted quietly and he stopped her from leaving as he placed a hand on her shoulder. “I said a few things I didn’t mean in anger and I came to apologise. To the both of you.”

“Apology accepted, dear,” she said as she patted his hand. 

“Just like that?” you asked her with a frown.

“One thing age has taught me, is life’s short and grudges weigh heavily on the soul. It’s better to forgive and move on, honey.”

“No wonder Lando gets along with her so well,” you whispered to Charles as she went to the kitchen. “They’ll be making friendship bracelets and dreamcatchers in no time.”

“I’m pretty sure I already saw them reading the horoscopes in the newspaper this morning.”

“Zusje,” Max interrupted the whispers with a sheepish step forward. “Can we have a word, alone?”

Charles looked at Max defiantly until you patted his stomach and he looked back at you. “It’s okay, there’s plenty of vases if he gets out of hand.”

“Touch my monsteras and there will be hell to pay, missy,” the warning came from the kitchen.

“I was thinking a cactus would hurt more.” You looked at Max and saw his lips twitching as he knew you were just winding your mother up.

“Just don’t reach for a fork,” Max said with a chuckle. “Then I’ll be scared.”

“Ouch, too soon for a Jos joke,” you snickered and made your way to the front door where you wouldn’t be overheard from the kitchen. “I don’t want to get in trouble for swearing.”

Max followed you out of the house and took a seat beside you on the front step. Seeing the mess in the front yard, he cocked an eyebrow and jutted his chin at it. “Yours?”

You were about to open your mouth to bite back a remark before a dark smile grew. “How sorry are you?”

“Seriously?” he groaned, eyeing up the rusted shears and dozens of plants still overgrown. “I can pay someone to come and do that.”

“So can I, but you said you were sorry and actions speak louder than words, Maxie.”

“Let’s get this straight, I fix the garden and you forgive me.”

You chewed your lip before nodding. “But, if you ever, and I mean ever, say something like that again I will torpedo you into turn one.” 

“Sounds fair to me,” he agreed. “I don’t like fighting with you.”

“I wouldn’t like fighting me too,” you joked before sobering up. “I’m sorry I said I didn’t have a brother.”

“Half-brother, but it’s okay, we both said things we didn’t mean.” He looked over his shoulder at the shoes lined up and knew which was Lando’s and which was Charles from when they used to sit outside his door on the nights they would hang out. “I hope you seriously thought this through.”

You snorted a laugh. “It wasn’t some whim, Max, they were my friends too so yes, we thought this through. I think you need to give us more credit.”

Max dropped his chin onto his fist. “I just don’t understand how it can work.”

“You don’t have to,” you said simply. “It works for us and has for the last couple of months, and will continue to for hopefully a very, very long time.”

“Months?”

You shrugged innocently. “Told you, not a whim.”

“Months?” he repeated as his brows crumpled together and his face screwed up like he was in pain. “Oh, I’m going to kill those lying fuckers.”

“No you’re not,” you growled as you planted a hand on his shoulder to keep him seated. 

“Give me one good reason.”

“Because I love them, and I would never speak to you again. Can’t you just be happy for me? I’m not the easiest person to get along with. Or, at least be happy I’m not on Raya anymore.”

“Oh no, this is much better than Raya,” he muttered sarcastically before taking a deep breath. “Fine. Not fine, but okay, fine.”

“It's a start.” You held out your hand. “So I forgive you, you forgive me - even though your transgression was much worse in my opinion - and we are all happy families again.”

“Yeah, totally happy,” he said with a roll of his eyes and you returned it with a punch to his arm. “I can’t believe you stole my best friends.”

“Get used to it, I’ll be stealing the championship next.”

He huffed a laugh and relaxed a bit as he shook your hand. 

“One other thing,” you said as you shook on the deal. “I may have forgiven you but the guys aren’t going to be as easy to convince.” You rose from the steps and wiped the dust from your ass. “But you can worry about that after you take care of the garden. Laters, bro.”

You slammed the door closed before he could reach it and locked it with a laugh as he banged on it. “You didn’t say I had to do it now! It’s the middle of the fucking day.”

“Better put some sunscreen on then, Snow White.” You turned away from the door with a proud grin and found Charles and Lando waiting expectantly. “What? He’s still alive.”

The door swung open and Max smirked as he held up the spare key that was hidden under a pot plant. “Terrible hiding place.” His smile fell as he saw your boyfriends blocking the hall shoulder to shoulder and their arms crossed over their chests. 

“So you two are…?” Lando waved a hand between you and your brother.

“Yeah, we’re good now,” you said with a nod and Lando relaxed his posture with a quiet exhale that made you smile. He could be so protective but it didn’t change the fact he was a lover not a fighter. 

Brushing past you, Max offered his hand in peace and Lando shook it. “You hurt my sister and you’re a dead man walking.”

Making the only promise that meant anything in your world, he said, “I’d rather lose my seat.”

Satisfied with the answer he turned to Charles who accepted the handshake but his stiff spine remained as he leaned closer to Max and whispered, “This doesn’t make us friends again. I’m only doing this for her.”

Click here for chapter nine.

[mrssainzhamilton]

It’s A New Beginning: Lewis Hamilton X Black! Reader X Max Verstappen

TW: Cheating, Harsh tones

Y/n had been with her boyfriend Max for the past four years and they have a daughter named Tai Verstappen. Over the course of the last three weeks, Y/n had been facing problems from Max’s dad, Jose, who kept telling her that she was a distraction and that he didn’t know what Max saw in her, going to the extent of questioning Tai’s paternity. Throughout this entire time, not once had Max defended her since he decided to just sit back and laugh; agreeing with his father. This made Y/n doubt the standing of their relationship with the final straw being pulled after Y/n saw circulating photos of Max and Kelly Piquet paired up with her daughter as they looked more like a family than with his own child.

Max had arrived home in Monaco very late to his girlfriend sitting on the coach. “Don’t touch me, I don’t know where your hands and lips have been” Y/n retracted harshly as she got up from the couch. “I waited for you to make the inform of the fact that I’ll be leaving and taking my daughter with me. You now have enough space for Kelly and Penelope.” She spoke as she took up a sleeping Tai and walked out the door, out of his life.

She drove off driving around Monaco with nowhere to go and so she just parked on the side and sat there crying not knowing what to do since she doesn’t own a house in Maonaco and was unable to afford the fees to go back home.

Lewis was coming back from a midnight run when he spotted the beauty crying in the car so he decided to approach. “Hi Y/n why are you out here, shouldn’t you and the little one be at home out of the cold?” He asked confused. “He cheated with Nelson Piquet’s daughter. We aren’t together anymore so I don’t have anywhere to go” Y/n sobbed, stirring the sleeping toddler. “She’s about 8 months old yeah?” Lewis took notice before he opened the door, taking Tai out of her car seat and helping Y/n out the car and into the house. “You two will stay here with me and you’ll work at the hospitality while I look after little Tai” Lewis offered making Y/n tear up at his kindness towards a rival’s ex.

Truth be told, Lewis was always in love with Y/n since he had seen her at Abu Dhabi; however Max had gotten to her first which left him to admire her from afar. Throughout the months, Lewis and Y/n grew closer until feelings were shared and a relationship was formed.

Over the passing years, Jose seemed to have regret his actions towards his former daughter-in-law and granddaughter as he saw how sad his son had become whenever Lewis would appear with Tai on his hip playing with Roscoe and her new grandpa Anthony.

“Daddy, I know that Max is my real father so I have a question” Tai hinted to her stepfather who now gave her his full attention. “Sure princes, what’s up?” He asked attentively “Would you be upset if I went into the Redbull Grage to say hi to my daddy and grandpa?” She asked shyly. “Of course not sweetheart, you have all right and permission to go if you want to. Is that what you want?” He asked making the child nod cutely.

Lewis too Tai by the hand and led her to the garage where he showed her to Max and allowed her to go off. He watched as the interacted and after they were finished she ran back over with a pretty smile on her face as they left.

[thatsonemorbidcorvid]

“By simply existing as women in public life, we have all become targets, stripped of our accomplishments, our intellect, and our activism and reduced to sex objects for the pleasure of millions of anonymous eyes.

Men, of course, are subject to this abuse far less frequently. In reporting this article, I searched the name Donald Trump on one prominent deepfake-porn website and turned up one video of the former president—and three entire pages of videos depicting his wife, Melania, and daughter Ivanka. A 2019 study from Sensity, a company that monitors synthetic media, estimated that more than 96 percent of deepfakes then in existence were nonconsensual pornography of women.”

Recently, a Google Alert informed me that I am the subject of deepfake pornography. I wasn’t shocked. For more than a year, I have been the target of a widespread online harassment campaign, and deepfake porn—whose creators, using artificial intelligence, generate explicit video clips that seem to show real people in sexual situations that never actually occurred—has become a prized weapon in the arsenal misogynists use to try to drive women out of public life. The only emotion I felt as I informed my lawyers about the latest violation of my privacy was a profound disappointment in the technology—and in the lawmakers and regulators who have offered no justice to people who appear in porn clips without their consent. Many commentators have been tying themselves in knots over the potential threats posed by artificial intelligence—deepfake videos that tip elections or start wars, job-destroying deployments of ChatGPT and other generative technologies. Yet policy makers have all but ignored an urgent AI problem that is already affecting many lives, including mine.

Last year, I resigned as head of the Department of Homeland Security’s Disinformation Governance Board, a policy-coordination body that the Biden administration let founder amid criticism mostly from the right. In subsequent months, at least three artificially generated videos that appear to show me engaging in sex acts were uploaded to websites specializing in deepfake porn. The images don’t look much like me; the generative-AI models that spat them out seem to have been trained on my official U.S. government portrait, taken when I was six months pregnant. Whoever created the videos likely used a free “face swap” tool, essentially pasting my photo onto an existing porn video. In some moments, the original performer’s mouth is visible while the deepfake Frankenstein moves and my face flickers. But these videos aren’t meant to be convincing—all of the websites and the individual videos they host are clearly labeled as fakes. Although they may provide cheap thrills for the viewer, their deeper purpose is to humiliate, shame, and objectify women, especially women who have the temerity to speak out. I am somewhat inured to this abuse, after researching and writing about it for years. But for other women, especially those in more conservative or patriarchal environments, appearing in a deepfake-porn video could be profoundly stigmatizing, even career- or life-threatening.

As if to underscore video makers’ compulsion to punish women who speak out, one of the videos to which Google alerted me depicts me with Hillary Clinton and Greta Thunberg. Because of their global celebrity, deepfakes of the former presidential candidate and the climate-change activist are far more numerous and more graphic than those of me. Users can also easily find deepfake-porn videos of the singer Taylor Swift, the actress Emma Watson, and the former Fox News host Megyn Kelly; Democratic officials such as Kamala Harris, Nancy Pelosi, and Alexandria Ocasio-Cortez; the Republicans Nikki Haley and Elise Stefanik; and countless other prominent women. By simply existing as women in public life, we have all become targets, stripped of our accomplishments, our intellect, and our activism and reduced to sex objects for the pleasure of millions of anonymous eyes.

Men, of course, are subject to this abuse far less frequently. In reporting this article, I searched the name Donald Trump on one prominent deepfake-porn website and turned up one video of the former president—and three entire pages of videos depicting his wife, Melania, and daughter Ivanka. A 2019 study from Sensity, a company that monitors synthetic media, estimated that more than 96 percent of deepfakes then in existence were nonconsensual pornography of women. The reasons for this disproportion are interconnected, and are both technical and motivational: The people making these videos are presumably heterosexual men who value their own gratification more than they value women’s personhood. And because AI systems are trained on an internet that abounds with images of women’s bodies, much of the nonconsensual porn that those systems generate is more believable than, say, computer-generated clips of cute animals playing would be.

As I looked into the provenance of the videos in which I appear—I’m a disinformation researcher, after all—I stumbled upon deepfake-porn forums where users are remarkably nonchalant about the invasion of privacy they are perpetrating. Some seem to believe that they have a right to distribute these images—that because they fed a publicly available photo of a woman into an application engineered to make pornography, they have created art or a legitimate work of parody. Others apparently think that simply by labeling their videos and images as fake, they can avoid any legal consequences for their actions. These purveyors assert that their videos are for entertainment and educational purposes only. But by using that description for videos of well-known women being “humiliated” or “pounded”—as the titles of some clips put it—these men reveal a lot about what they find pleasurable and informative.

Ironically, some creators who post in deepfake forums show great concern for their own safety and privacy—in one forum thread that I found, a man is ridiculed for having signed up with a face-swapping app that does not protect user data—but insist that the women they depict do not have those same rights, because they have chosen public career paths. The most chilling page I found lists women who are turning 18 this year; they are removed on their birthdays from “blacklists” that deepfake-forum hosts maintain so they don’t run afoul of laws against child pornography.

Effective laws are exactly what the victims of deepfake porn need. Several states—including Virginia and California—have outlawed the distribution of deepfake porn. But for victims living outside these jurisdictions or seeking justice against perpetrators based elsewhere, these laws have little effect. In my own case, finding out who created these videos is probably not worth the time and money. I could attempt to subpoena platforms for information about the users who uploaded the videos, but even if the sites had those details and shared them with me, if my abusers live out of state—or in a different country—there is little I could do to bring them to justice.

Representative Joseph Morelle of New York is attempting to reduce this jurisdictional loophole by reintroducing the Preventing Deepfakes of Intimate Images Act, a proposed amendment to the 2022 reauthorization of the Violence Against Women Act. Morelle’s bill would impose a nationwide ban on the distribution of deepfakes without the explicit consent of the people depicted in the image or video. The measure would also provide victims with somewhat easier recourse when they find themselves unwittingly starring in nonconsensual porn.

In the absence of strong federal legislation, the avenues available to me to mitigate the harm caused by the deepfakes of me are not all that encouraging. I can request that Google delist the web addresses of the videos in its search results and—though the legal basis for any demand would be shaky—have my attorneys ask online platforms to take down the videos altogether. But even if those websites comply, the likelihood that the videos will crop up somewhere else is extremely high. Women targeted by deepfake porn are caught in an exhausting, expensive, endless game of whack-a-troll.

The Preventing Deepfakes of Intimate Images Act won’t solve the deepfake problem; the internet is forever, and deepfake technology is only becoming more ubiquitous and its output more convincing. Yet especially because AI grows more powerful by the month, adapting the law to an emergent category of misogynistic abuse is all the more essential to protect women’s privacy and safety. As policy makers worry whether AI will destroy the world, I beg them: Let’s first stop the men who are using it to discredit and humiliate women.

Nina Jankowicz is a disinformation expert and the author of How to Be a Woman Online and How to Lose the Information War.

[sevcasejay1chicago]

Hi! Would you maybe do a fic where the reader tells Kelly he’s going to be a dad? Super cute and fluffy and very excited Kelly.

Baby Severide

Warning: morning sickness/ vomiting, lots of fluff

Authors note: sorry it took so long to get this posted! I just haven’t had the spark to write in a while. Hope you enjoy!!!

~~~~~~~~~~~~

Two days prior to the announcement:

You woke next to Kelly like you do every day. The sun was just shining in and the cool breeze was rustling the curtains. You had nowhere to go today, so you weren’t entirely sure why you were awake. Kelly had canceled everything for the day since you had woken up sick two days in a row and were left feeling awful for most of the day. You soon realized why you were awake.

You untangled yourself from the sheets and shoved Kelly’s arm to the side as you ran for the bathroom. You barely made it in time when your stomach gave in. You had a white knuckle grip on the tank, sobbing as the next wave came up, when Kelly ran in.

“Oh baby.” Kelly sighed sympathetically. He grabbed your wash rag and wet it before coming to pull you down to your knees. “Shhhhhh. Just let it out. You are doing so good.” Kelly soothed, laying the cloth on the back of your neck.

You blindly reached for him, sobbing and hyperventilating as you tried to stop the vomiting. “K-hurk” you tried to call out his name, but a harsh retch cut you off.

“Sh sh sh. Don’t talk. Just focus on breathing baby girl.” Kelly said, taking your hair away from your face and gently rubbing your back as you gripped his pajama pants.

The episode lasted for about 10 minutes before you were finally able to pull away. You fell into Kelly’s arms with a sob. You hate throwing up and have now thrown up three days in a row. You don’t know what’s wrong.

“I gotcha. I gotcha.” Kelly shushed, slightly rocking back and forth. “Shhhhh. It’s okay Angel. You feeling better?” He hummed, kissing your sweaty forehead. You rose your hand and tilted it side to side in response.

“Think your done for now?” Kelly asked, leaning back a little to see your face. You nodded and Kelly smiled at you. “Okay baby girl. Up you go.” Kelly said, pushing you back just enough to stand and then pull you into his arms.

Kelly stopped to let you wash your mouth out a few times and blow your nose. He checked your temp for the third day in a row and hummed at the thermometer. It just couldn’t be right.

“Welp. No fever again baby.” Kelly said, rubbing your sides as you sat on the bathroom counter. “Ready to crawl back in bed or do you want a shower?” Kelly asked, standing between your legs still.

“Bed first. Nap. Shower later.” You said, laying out your plan.

Kelly laughed and lifted you up. “Yes ma’am.” He said, kissing the side of your head before he deposited you onto the bed.

Hours later, you woke to a note from Kelly saying he was going to go help Matt do something and stop by the store. Assuming he’d be back around the time he specified, which was suppose to be 6 pm, you called Kim Burgess.

“Burgess.” Kim answered on the third ring.

“Hey Kim. It’s Y/n. Are you busy at the moment?” You asked, knowing that since it was 4 pm, she could be on the job.

“Nope. Just wrapped up a case. What’s up?” Kim asked, continuing to pack up for the day.

“I need a huge favor. Like, I need this to stay between us until I know for sure.” You said, twisting the sheets in your hands anxiously. You had an idea of what the problem was, now that this had been going on for three days in a row, but you did not feel well enough to leave home.

“I already know. I’ll be there in 20.” Kim said, hanging up.

You chuckled, knowing your best friend probably knew before you did.

Now:

As you suspected, Kim figured out you were pregnant before you or Kelly did. You knew that Kelly didn’t have a clue since he was pretty adamant about not going on shift yesterday, but you promised that you would call him if you needed him and would check in regularly. Since he left, you and Kim had been working on your little announcement.

When Kelly got home the morning after his shift, he was pleasantly surprised to find you sitting on the couch. You had on a red hoodie that he did not recognize, a pillow hugged to your stomach, as you sipped on some coffee.

“Hey sweetheart.” Kelly called, smiling as he eyed you.

You grinned. “Hey handsome. Come join me.” You said, setting your coffee to the side and moving the bag that you had next to you.

Kelly slide into his place, pulling you into his side. “Feeling any better?” He whispered, planting a kiss on your temple.

“About that.” You said, grinning. “I have some news.” You handed Kelly the bag from Walgreens and removed the pillow as he peaked inside. You held back a laugh at his confused face.

“Do we know…” he started to say, pulling out the little firefighter boots, but stopping short as he read your hoodie. “Newest member of squad three.” He read, a smile blossoming on his face as he looked to where the arrow was pointing at your stomach. “Oh my God!” Kelly yelled, grinning from ear to ear. “Are you serious?!”

You nodded, grinning like a fool as tears rolled down your face. “Your gonna be a daddy Kel.” You whispered, voice choked with tears of joy.

Kelly started chuckling and pulled you into a hug. “Baby. This is the best day of my life.” Kelly practically sang, leaning back to look at you, then leaning down to your belly. “Hey fire cracker. It’s your daddy and I am soooo happy you are going to be ours.” Kelly whispered, kissing your stomach.

You held a hand over your mouth, refusing to sob at the sight in front of you. You knew Kelly would be excited, especially given the way he reacted when he held your nephew for the first time.

“How long?” Kelly asked, kissing you quickly.

“Nat says I’m 7 weeks. I just never thought about it since I’m so irregular, but I saw her yesterday after I got a positive home test.” You explained, wiping happy tears from Kelly’s face as he did the same for you.

“When can we tell everyone?!” Kelly asked, practically jumping in his seat.

You chucked, so happy that he was happy. “Whenever your ready.”

Tag list:

@treehouse-mouse

@shadowmeadowsworld

@sorry-i-spaced

@zephyrmonkey

@allisonargent144

@amie134

@lane-rodgers-barnes

@pensfan5871

@dumb-fawkin-bitch

@marvel-and-chicago-fan

@daggersquadphantom

@stellakiddsblog

@100yroldteenagers

@senjoritanana

@celtic-shadow-wolf

[hd-wireless]

📻🎶 H/D WIRELESS 2023 - WEEKLY WRAP-UP #1

🎶  Just a perfect week Read fanfiction in the park And then later When it gets dark, look at art. Just a perfect week Reading at work in the loo, And then later a podfic, too And then home.

Oh it's such a perfect fest We're glad to share it with you Oh, such a perfect fest It just keeps us reading on, It just keeps us reading on.   🎶

🎤 Welcome to our 8th round of H/D Wireless!

The time has finally come to start posting all the fantastic entries we’ve received this year!

We’ve revealed 14 top hits so far, with many more to come. The mods have been working non-stop since December to make this happen, so we’re beyond excited to finally be back 🤩

As always you can listen to the prompted songs for the works we post on two playlists:

Click here for Spotify (many thanks to @evaeleanor for helping us out there) ❤️

And here for the YouTube playlist.

And now without further ado, our Wrap-up for the first week of posting:

🎶 H/D Wireless Art 🎶

📻 Why don't you like me? [T, digital comic]

🎵Song Prompt: Grace Kelly by MIKA 🎵Summary Failing to ask Harry out, Draco deals with his feelings in a very dramatic fashion.

📻 Alive [E, Digital comic]

🎵 Song Prompt: 'Alive' by 'Sia' 🎵 Summary Harry is lost after the final battle, but he finds comfort from an unexpected source. 

🎶 H/D Wireless Fic and Art 🎶

📻 Before the Cold Sets In [T, 9,154, origami art]

🎵 Song Prompt: Cold Tea Blues, by Cowboy Junkies 🎵 Summary But if I measure the sugar To satisfy your expectant tongue Then that is love Sitting untouched and growing cold - Cold Tea Blues, by Cowboy Junkies Sometimes, the person you should be planning your life with is already in it. Or, how Harry realised that true love is at the bottom of a tea cup.

🎶 H/D Wireless Fic 🎶

📻 Everybody Hates a Tourist [E, 51,500]

🎵 Song Prompt: Common People by Pulp 🎵 Summary On a stag do in sunny Brighton with the Gryffindor lads, the last person Harry expects to run into is Draco Malfoy. After a glimpse of Malfoy’s Muggle life in Britain’s gay capital, Harry’s curiosity gets the better of him and he finds himself returning to the seaside again and again, drawn to the city, drawn to this new version of Malfoy that Harry barely recognises from school. Meanwhile, Draco’s just trying to live his big and best queer life: working for the weekend, chasing hot men, getting lost in Brighton's nightlife, and making friends with the neighbourhood cats. Why does his former school rival and crush have to show up and spoil everything?

📻 Take You Home [E, 26,333]

🎵 Song Prompt: Fuck the Pain Away by Peaches and Take You Home by Dido 🎵 Summary Everybody’s a little fucked up after the war, Draco especially. What starts as hate sex after a night out, eventually turns into something else, something more like comfort. And even though his friends all tell Harry he’s just being used, all Harry’s doing is making sure Draco gets home in one piece. He’s not falling helplessly in love.

📻 love is just a shout in the void [M, 4,489]

🎵 Song Prompt: i'm in love with u, sorry by j'san 🎵 Summary Draco accidentally texts Potter his biggest secret and he’s pretty sure the Chosen Prat isn’t ready to hear anything close to it. So he pretends he didn’t mean to. But the problem is: Potter is still as infuriating as ever, if not more than he was before.

📻 The Two Of Us In Sympathy [M, 5,782]

🎵 Song Prompt: Rent by Pet Shop Boys. 🎵 Summary Draco Malfoy is a sex worker. Harry Potter is the client who falls in love with him.

📻 Vipera Berus [M, 20,614]

🎵 Song Prompt: Just Pretend by Bad Omens 🎵 Summary Everything was fine. Draco resided at the Manor, made a decent living selling potions and most of his customers actually kept coming back despite his last name. Hence, Draco was fine. He really was. And so what, if he was still waiting.

📻 Don’t hate him when he gets up to leave [M, 2,226]

🎵 Song Prompt: 'Two-Headed Boy' by 'Neutral Milk Hotel' 🎵 Summary The linens are white and empty, sunlight slanting through the window illuminating a bed that has been deserted. Draco knew Potter would leave; he’s always gone by morning. Draco doesn’t even remember what he looks like in daylight.

📻 (you) find me when the lights go down [T, 1,839]

🎵 Song Prompt: 'save me from the monster in my head' by 'Welshly Arms' 🎵 Summary Harry can hear footsteps on the stairs behind him but doesn't bother turning to look. There's only one person likely to follow him out here at this time of night. "Potter," comes the crisp voice, easily recognisable as Draco. "You do know that most sane people, especially those who spend every waking moment complaining of being cold, would cast a warming charm. Or at the very least grab a sweater. Not spend every night attempting to turn into an icicle." - What makes someone a ghost? Because if it's dying, Harry's got that covered.

📻 If You Took the Time to Try [T, 18,169]

🎵 Song Prompt: "Go Like" by Fox Stevenson 🎵 Summary Last summer, Draco's impulsive decision to sleep with Harry Potter resulted in a bruised ego and a broken heart. Now he's looking for a fresh start- something that was absolutely not just an excuse for him to run away from his problems. Only it totally was, and while leaving London might have been easy, leaving Potter in the past was not.

📻 Title & Possession [E, 49,063]

🎵 Song Prompt: Misery Loves Company - Asking Alexandria 🎵 Summary Harry Potter’s life is going well in the aftermath of the war. Sure, his house is dark and run-down and might hate him (while his house elf definitely hates him). But other than that, things are good. Except, yeah, okay, Hermione and Ron are no longer on speaking terms. Worse, they keep trying to get Harry to pick sides. But otherwise, Harry couldn’t be happier. Well. Except for the fact that Ginny is being super weird about their relationship and never wants to have sex or talk about the future. But other than that, Harry is perfectly fine, thankyouverymuch. At least, he is until Draco Malfoy threatens to sue him for ownership of Number Twelve, Grimmauld Place, and winds up moving in until the issue is settled. Then Harry really isn’t fine at all.

🎶 H/D Wireless Podfic 🎶

📻 Inside These Walls [podfic] [M, 33 minutes]

🖋️ Original author: Jackvbriefs 🎵 Song Prompt: Black Sheep by Metric 🎵 Summary The year before Draco moves to Los Angeles, Harry Potter disappears. Draco doesn't mean to find him. He's just doing his job.

📻 Moldova's Magical Tea by aibidil - a Podfic [E, 2:46:12]

🖋️ Original author: aibidil  🎵 Song Prompt:  Clint Eastwood by Gorrillaz 🎵 Summary Neville Longbottom, Luna Lovegood, and—to everyone’s surprise—Draco Malfoy are opening a magical tea shop to revive wizarding tea culture and, hopefully, to bring the community together after the war. Harry, who is unemployed and trying to find his way in post-war society, wants to help his friends with their new business—but that means spending a lot of time around Malfoy. Featuring Muggle music from summer 2001, trips to the Muggle cinema, herbology and magical herbal infusions, and Draco trying to convince Harry that, while he’s still a snarky git, he’s no longer a bigot.

[isimpfortoomanypeople]

Lucas asks Billy if he can marry max

High school sweethearts one shot Billy Hargrove x female reader

During dinner you all grow concerned over Lucas who looks like he’s going to pass out from his nerves, wondering why he’s so worked up

Warnings: mentions of hospitals and so much fluff

A/N: I literally wrote this fic as soon as it entered my head as it was too cute not to write it. I’m so glad that people have been liking high school sweethearts enough for me to be able to create a series of one shots. Sorry if some parts sound overly British as I’m from the U.K. apologises for all spelling and grammatical mistakes as I’m super dyslexic, enjoy.

“Well she’s finally down” Max gently sighed as she pulled a chair from under the dining table.

“Thanks Max for doing that, Kelly couldn’t stop talking about how she missed her auntie” you smiled at her as you dished a pile of pasta on to her plate. Finally sitting down on your seat next to Billy who pulled you close to his side, gently kissing your cheek as he complimented you on how delicious the meal looked.

“It was no problem, I love Kelly even when she makes me read good night moon for the one hundredth time” Max joked as she twirled the pasta on her fork, she lent into Lucas’s side nudging him with her elbow.

Lucas looked at Max with a questioning look as he watched her mouth turn into a crafty smile. He reached out for his glass, bringing it up to his lips weary about whatever his girlfriend is about to say.

“She’s so cute, she makes me want to have a kid”

Lucas spluttered and choked on his water, regretting to choose that exact moment to take a sip. His eyes grew wide as he processed what she had just said to him.

Billy’s eyes narrowed in an over protective manner, locking Max into his gaze. Biting his lip, trying to compose his words before he said the first thing that came to his mind. She was his little sister (still a kid in his eyes) there was no way in hell was she going to have a kid.

“Maxine no kids till you graduate college or even then! Actually don’t have kids till you’re married” Billy sternly spoke, drawing out each word so that she would get the message. His mouth slightly twitching as he brought his fork to his lips, forcefully swallowing the food down his throat.

Max cringed over Billy’s use of her full name, she rolled her eyes back at him as he was still holding his stern look.

“Okay dad I’ll wait till marriage” she sarcastically muttered back to him

“So Max and Lucas how is college?” You quickly chimed in, awkwardly laughing as you tried to defuse the atmosphere. Saving poor Lucas who was still frozen to the spot still in a complete state of shock over Max’s comment, you were pretty sure that he hadn’t even blinked yet still processing what the fuck just happened.

The rest of the meal ran smoothly, Max and Lucas updated you both about their lives since you last saw them at thanksgiving. Living in California sometimes felt isolating being so far away from Hawkins, but you loved your new life you built with Billy and having a beautiful daughter. Plus Max was only a phone call away.

You developed the unlikely friendship with Max during hospital trips to see Billy during high school. You gave her rides to the hospital, Max at first was standoffish, but could you really blame her? That poor kid has been through a lot in the first few years of moving to Hawkins, fighting monsters who came from god knows where, having an abusive step dad and watching as her own brother got possessed and nearly died. But slowly after a while she warmed up to you, Laughing as you both sang along to her cassettes that you let her play in the car. It wasn’t long before she started coming to you for advice and confiding in you about what had been bothering her that day, she soon saw you as the sister she never had.

This confused Billy at first in his heavily medicated induced haze, but seeing how you two got along warmed his heart.

This still continues to this day, Max will still call you weekly telling you about her life in college or asking you for relationship advice with Lucas.

She was overjoyed when she found out that you were pregnant and swore to be the best auntie to your child. Which explains why whenever Max is around Kelly is always attached to her hip.

“Billy can I talk to you?” Lucas nervously stuttered looking at the ground not daring to look him in the eyes.

“Sure?” Billy questioned as he watch the uneasiness wash over Lucas’s body as he started to shake with his nerves.

Billy got up and pushed his chair back under the table, he walked towards the living room door, his face stuck in a baffled expression confused to what Lucas was about to ask him? Especially in a different room away from Max, didn’t those two tell each other everything? So why was Lucas being so god damn suspicious?

Lucas quickly followed suit still shaking with nerves, the room started to feel like it was closing in as he started to feel queasy.

“Should I be worried?” Max asked you as the two men closed the door behind them.

You shrugged, shooting max a reassuring smile. But you too was asking yourself the same thing

——————————————————————————

“What’s up?”

“Well erm I..” Lucas stuttered feeling sweat pool at the top of his brow. Was the room getting hotter?

“Spit it out kid” Billy looked at Lucas with concern as he started to look faint, his eyes couldn’t keep still as they switched from different areas of the room.

Lucas allowed himself to breathe, trying to compose himself before he asked Billy the second biggest question of his life.

“What I’m trying to say is that I love Max, I truly love her with all my heart. I’m mad about her, I honestly can’t picture a future without her in it, so I want to ask for her hand in marriage?” Lucas asked, finally looking Billy in his eyes. He nervously held his breath awaiting Billy’s response.

Billy’s face relaxed, he chuckled as his face grew into a warm smile. He crossed his arms trying his hardest not to sound too overjoyed for his little sister otherwise he would spoil the surprise.

“Of course”

Lucas released all the tension from his body as he sighed a breath of relief upon hearing Billy’s words.

“I can see how well you treat her and how happy she is when she’s with you. But as much as I like you Lucas, I have no problem with doing something stupid that Y/N won’t like if you ever do anything to hurt her”

“So what did you two talk about?” You asked when the guests left. Looking at Billy with suspicion as you brought the plates to the sink. You saw how visibly relieved Lucas looked when he reentered the room while Billy looked visibly overjoyed, they both pushed off all questions you and max asked them about their talk.

“Lucas asked if he could marry Max”

You pressed your hand over your mouth to muffle out a loud squeal to avoid waking up Kelly. Your lips grew into such a big smile that your cheeks started aching. You were so happy for them both, remembering the day Billy proposed to you.

———————————————————————————

“Hello?”

“Y/N he proposed! Can you believe it? Oh my god I can’t stop shaking. I’m going to be Max Sinclair, oh my god!” Max squealed, her voice raising in pitch with each word, that you had to hold the phone away from your ear.

“I’m so happy for you max” you beamed feeling your heart swell over their young love

“ I wish you could see the ring Y/N it’s beautiful, I still can’t believe it”

You chuckled at her giddiness as it reminded you of how you felt when a beautiful diamond ring was placed upon your finger.

——————————————————————————-

“Well Max said yes”

“I knew she would, they’re both crazy about each other, reminds me of us” Billy smirked as he pressed his lips to yours into a soft gentle loving kiss.

“Looks like Max doesn’t need to wait much longer to have a baby” you joked laughing as you saw Billy groan, rolling his eyes at you.

“Y/N don’t even joke about that”

A/N: did I purposefully leave our details of the reader and Billy’s proposal just so I can write a one shot about it? I’ll never tell ;)

[i-think-i-did-it-again]

Let you go I

Warning: swearing, depression, anger

Inspired by:

The day started the same way it always does, you stare at a bowl of cereal, no real appetite. You push the little puffs of grains around in the milk, watching it become soggy the longer it floats. You sigh and decide you’ve pretended to eat for long enough. You pick up your bowl, dumping the contents into the bin and placing the bowl in the sink. You can’t even stomach coffee these days. Everything makes you feel nauseous. You know that you’ve lost weight, you know that your roommates are worried about you, you know that how you’re dealing with your grief is not healthy but you simply just don’t care anymore. Everyone avoids you like the plague, even people that don’t really know you. You walk through the halls of your college and people openly part as you pass by. That’s the thing about dating a celebrity, there’s no anonymity when you break up.

Even your professors have made comments to you, asking if you need to talk, giving you the number of free counsellors on campus. Your grades haven’t dropped but your entire presence has shifted. You don’t want to feel this way forever but you just need a little time to wallow in your grief for a while.

Everything reminds you of him. You hear a song and you think of him. You see an ad and you remember seeing it with him the first time. A movie suggestion pops up on Netflix and you are reminded of when you watched it with him, curled up in bed while he played with your hair. Even food reminds you of him. Watching your roommates make spaghetti with meatballs reminds you of the first time you cooked dinner for him and that was his only request. You’ve avoided Starbucks like it’s diseased, remembering the first time you stayed at his house and he woke up early just so he could go get you a morning coffee. You can’t even bring yourself to say his name anymore, even in your own mind it hurts too much.

You’re moving through your apartment in your usual zombie daze, just going through the motions, before you have to go to your first class of the day. The sound of your phone ringing pulls you from your self-sabotaging thoughts. You put your hairbrush down and pull the phone out of your back pocket, swiping to accept without actually checking the caller id.

“Hello?” you barely recognise your own monotone voice.

“Y/N?” The sound of Casie’s timid voice connects some spark in you and you feel yourself slowly coming to life.

“Casie? Is everything ok?” your voice is coming out faster now, panic etched into the words. You haven’t spoken to Casie since the last time you saw him.

“I…I don’t know. Everything has been weird since you left but lately it’s just,” Casie’s voice matches the panic you’re feeling but there’s more to it. She’s whispering, which tells you no one knows she’s calling you and she wants to keep it that way. “Something is wrong and no one knows what to do. No one wants to call you but I think you’re the only one that can help.”

“Ok,” you’re hesitant, not wanting to agree to anything but not wanting to dismiss her. “What’s the problem exactly?”

“It’s dad, he’s just been super erratic today and he just isn’t being himself. He won’t talk to anyone at all and he took off last night and was gone all night. No one knew where he was and he wasn’t answering calls and then he came back like half an hour ago and his lips all busted and his nose looks broken and his knuckles are covered in cuts. He’s completely out of it like he’s drunk and high at the same time. He’s locked himself in his room and he just…” she trails off and you’re not sure if you really want her to finish telling you how fucked up he is but it’s clearly upsetting her.

“What’s he doing honey?” you press her for more information like the masochist you are. What you should be doing is telling her to call her mum or a doctor but you’re desperate to know if he’s ok.

“He just keeps saying your name over and over,” she whispers and your heart physically aches at the thought of him desperately calling for you.

“I’m on my way,” you tell her before hanging up.

You’re not really sure why you agreed to go over and try to help but you had to say something. Well, you actually know exactly why you’re going. You’re desperate to see him and this is the perfect excuse. You meant it months ago when you said you’re leaving and never going to see him again but these are different circumstances. No one could hold it against you for going over to help his scared daughter and best friends. You can’t help the butterflies that fill your stomach at the thought of seeing him.

You gather your things, still packing your school bag to use as an excuse to leave if things get too unbearable. You grab your keys, check your appearance one more time in the hallway mirror. You contemplate putting a bit more effort into your makeup, maybe adding a bit more blush and another coat of mascara but you don’t want it to look like you're trying. You do however, pull your hair out of the messy bun you’d plopped on top of your head and allow your hair to fall around your face. He always liked when your hair was wild and free.

As you’re driving to his house, quicker than you’d normally drive through the busy streets of LA, you prepare yourself for the idea that he won’t want to see you. That the only reason he’s saying your name is because he’s cursing you out and breaking everything and anything that reminds him of you. Maybe he just went out drinking and got hurt stumbling through the city and nothing bad happened. You didn’t really take the time to ask Casie how he’s drinking and addiction has been since you left. Maybe this is normal for him? But then why would she call you if this was normal?

As the streets begin to feel more and more familiar, your anxiety is literally stuck in your throat. You take a few deep breaths to calm yourself. You’re not going to be much use to anyone if you can’t talk. You park out on the street in front of his house and continue your slow breathing. You look up to the house and you can see a group huddled around the front door. All of his closest friends and Casie are standing there, waiting for you. Even Pete’s here and you didn’t even know he was in LA this week.

You feel self-conscious as you step out of the car and everyone anxiously watches you walking up the long driveway. You look down at your outfit and realise your style hasn’t really changed. You still wear t-shirts plastered with odd slogans or old bands you love and your trusty black jeans. Your converses are a bit worse for wear considering you’ve had them for almost 5 years but other than that, you probably look the exact same to them all. You don’t feel the same inside but they never have to know that.

“Y/N, holy shit. Are you sick?” Pete asks, stress and concern evident in his tone.

He takes a few steps to meet you and envelops you in a hug. So much for looking the same. You’d almost completely forgotten that you’re a few pounds lighter. His hug feels warm and reassuring and you could almost burst into tears right then and there but you have to hold it together. They didn't call you there to have your own emotional breakdown.

No one else says anything to you as Pete leads you inside. They all just give you small anxious smiles and polite nods. Casie huddles to your side and you hold her as best you can while still walking. As you step into the entryway of the massive house you hear a loud crash that makes everyone jump, including you. Everyone’s faces looked pained as they listen to their best friend and father spiral out of control.

“I guess that’s my cue to head upstairs,” you attempt to make light of the situation for their sakes but your voice is too filled with tension.

Casie tries to follow you up the stairs but Pete grabs her arm and pulls her back. He whispers something in her ear and she nods, her face sad but understanding. God, you’ve missed her. You feel everyone’s eyes follow you up the stairs until you disappear out of view. Once you’re at the top of the stairs, staring at his bedroom door, you take a few moments to calm yourself. You don’t want to make this situation any worse but at the same time, this is the first time you’re seeing him in 3 months and it’s not how you saw your day going.

Another crash and you have to cover your mouth with your hand to muffle your yelp. You pad quietly over to the door, avoiding that part of the floor that you remember queaks. You’re not really sure why you do, it seems like a useless measure as you don’t need the element of surprise. You take another deep breath for comfort before tapping lightly on the door. You don’t hear anything and you wonder if maybe he didn’t hear you over his destruction.

“Fuck off Pete!” you hear him scream through the door. It’s the first time you’ve heard his voice in 3 months and the pain that emanates through every word is crushing.

“C-Colson?” you stammer out. Saying his name almost brings you to tears so you pull your bottom lip between your teeth.

“Baby? Is that you?” Colson sounds shocked but guarded.

“Open the door, please?” you beg softly and hold your breath.

You hear the lock click and you breathe a sigh of relief until the door swings open and you come face to face with what you left behind.

[cursed-elo-images]

INCORRECT ELO QUOTES PART 7

So unfortunately I ran out of quotes to generate so this is the seventh and last part. However, I might wait a year or two and see if perchance.org in question creates more quotes I can generate. That said, if that happens, I might make more volumes of these quotes!!! But only if new ones keep getting created. That also explains why this part is rather short.

I hope everyone enjoys this last part of the Incorrect ELO Quotes Extravaganza!!!

Richard: *closes a cabinet*

*a crash is heard behind the cabinet door*

Mik: What was that?

Richard: The sound of someone else's problem.

Mik: That’s the key slice of truth we need to complete the entire truth pie.

Richard: Ooh, can we get some actual pie?

Mik: I like the way you think.

Richard: Is it just me or is instant ramen even better uncooked?

Mik: It’s just you.

Mik: Where did you get that tomato soup?

Richard: It’s actually a bowl of ketchup I just microwaved.

Mik: This is tied for most terrifying day of my life.

Richard: Tied with what?

Mik: Every other day of myself!

Mik : And what do I get out of this?

Richard: I will give you a dollar.

Mik: What do you think I am? A chump? I would never do it for a dollar!

Richard: How bout two dollars?

Mik: You got yourself a deal.

Richard: I feel like I can be myself around you.

Mik: You’re weird and quiet around me.

Richard: Yes.

Mik : Unpopular opinion, not all dogs are good boys.

Bev: Blocked.

Mik : Sometimes, they’re good girls!

Bev: UNBLOCKED!

Mik: Can we get a birthday cake?

Richard: It’s not your birthday.

Mik: The cake won’t know!

Mik: Knock, knock.

Richard: Who's there?

Mik: Boo!

Richard: Boo who?

Mik: Why are you crying?

Richard: I'm not crying.

Mik: Hello notcrying, I'm Mik.

Jeff: Hugh is not allowed to violate the dress code, even on 'casual' Fridays.

Jeff: No matter how many times you say please, Hugh. We won't put any of the hats you've been asking about into the dress code.

Melvyn: Shouldn't get stressed out, it's not good for the baby.

Jeff: What baby?

Melvyn, crying a bit: Me.

Hugh: Happy October 32nd! Second Halloween!

Richard: That doesn't exist.

Hugh: Not with that attitude.

Jeff: Hugh, we're hungry!

Richard: Hugh! What's for dinner?

Bev: We're hungry, Hugh!

Hugh, frying a bottle of ketchup over the stove: *screams*

Hugh & Melvyn in the back of Jeff's car: MCDONALDS! MCDONALDS! MCDONALDS!

Richard: We have food at home.

Jeff: *pulls into the McDonald's drivethrough*

Hugh & Melvyn: YAYYYYYY!

Jeff: *orders one black coffee and leaves*

Kelly: Are oranges named orange because oranges are orange or is orange called orange because oranges are orange?

Mik: Which came first, the orange or the orange?

Jeff: Orange was first used to refer the fruit 1280 years ago but was not used as a color until 1000 years ago.

Bev: What was the color called before then?

Melvyn: There was no color, duh! Everything was black and white!

Jeff: Where’s Hugh?

Richard: Doing stuff.

Jeff: I don’t like the sound of that. Where’s Bev?

Richard: Trying to stop Hugh from doing the stuff.

Jeff: And Kelly?

Richard: Trying to stop Bev from stopping Hugh from doing the stuff.

Jeff: I see. And what are you doing here, Richard?

Richard: I’m supposed to stop you from stopping Kelly from stopping Bev from stopping Hugh from doing the stuff.

Melvyn: A party is a celebration of a life, bringing people together to let the guest of honor know how much they’re loved. Jeff has done so much for us. This is our chance to do something for him.

Hugh: By forcing him to have fun at a party that he doesn't want to be at?

Melvyn: I knew you’d understand.

[userghostface]

PLL: Original Sin theory - Kelly is obsessed with Imogen

Ok so i’ll preface this by saying that I believe the show is telling the truth in showing that Karen is dead and Kelly is living, as pll fans we are obviously honed in on twin shenanigans and having them pull an Ali/Courtney situation just feels way too obvious to me. (Also I don’t think this theory will stand up past like probably episode 4 but still)

From what we’ve seen, Karen is more of an outright, mean girl type whereas Kelly is a more quiet and sinister type of bitch. Where Karen has shown to curse people out and cause trouble blatantly, Kelly causes issues in a more sneaky underhanded way that she can almost play off as accidental but is clearly more calculated. (Like the Carrie plan being her idea)

In the party flashbacks we see that Imogen clearly has a closer bond with Karen than she does Kelly - obviously editing plays as part as it’s a pain to get both “twins” on screen at the same time but it’s Karen who rushes into Imogens’ arms, Karen who’s cheek she kisses and Karen who she continues to cling to and address for the most part as the scene goes on while Kelly gets an air kiss, a vague greeting and a few brief shared looks/touches.

It’s also shown later on that Kelly was basically an outsider in their friendship, whilst looking at a picture of the three of them we see Imogen and Karen pressed close and Kelly off to the side - alone- like a third wheel. Maybe she was jealous of the bond between them and tired of feeling like she was second best to her sister and wanted to make a change.

When Kelly tells her sister what happened between Imogen and Greg, the dialogue is specifically withheld from the viewers, perhaps Kelly was over exaggerating the story in order to cause a rift in their friendship. If she thought that there was no chance Imogen would ever like her as much as she liked Karen then maybe she thought the easiest thing to do was to just divide them entirely. (Personally I think she didn’t intend for them to have such a long-standing fall out and she probably believed they would resume their friendship soon enough but was maybe hoping they wouldn’t be quite as close - obviously Imogens’ pregnancy was an unexpected wrench in the plan as Karen used it as ammunition to fuel her new vendetta.)

Now that Karen has caused such a big issue with Imogen, Kelly knows there’s no way to rekindle the situation and resigns herself to having lost Imogen but at least can relish in the fact that she doesn’t have to compete for her attention with her sister anymore. Imogen becoming an outsider also plays into her hands as now she has zero competition for her friendship, even though she can’t have her - she doesn’t want anyone else too either. When she sees Imogen befriending the other girls she becomes sort of bitter and nasty and sides with Karen in order to fuck her over which is why she’s so gleeful about the Carrie plan, the chance to turn Imogen back into an outsider is exactly what she wants since she believes she can never have her to herself.

Flash to Karen’s death, she now realises she has an opportunity to change things up, I think Kelly sees how she can clear Imogen’s name in and save her from her fathers wrath in order to get back into her good books and also use this as an excuse to become close friends again, closer than before even since Karen is no longer around to interfere. Kelly reaching out to invite her to the funeral feels like an olive branch and then the apologising on the swings shows she’s succeeding at least partially in getting Imogen back on side. I don’t imagine it will last long as the cracks will start to appear and maybe she’ll become too possessive or something but temporarily Kelly will feel like she’s on track to being Imogen’s best friend, the only problem now being the other girls being “in her way”.

[newx-menfan]

Interesting analysis of Prodigy’s appearance in X-Factor…if anyone wants to give it a read.

*Honestly…I don’t know HOW I feel about that plot point, if I am being honest.

It’s obvious Williams ending was rushed and she was hurried to explain how Prodigy died. Would more care have been made if there had been less pressure to tie up all the loose ends? Probably.

On the “Battle of the Atom” podcast, Williams more or less admits writers and editors were making changes to the last issues (basically more or less saying the same things Kelly Thompson/Sina Grace/Jeff Lemire have said over the years about lack of control writers really have with the X-Men line).

It’s not like real world stories HAVEN’T popped up in X-Men before- Chance’s church in Fallen Angels Vol.1 was very clearly based off of the Unification Church. Magneto is a concentration camp survivor….just to name a couple examples.

Still- using the name “Buck” Thatcher, essentially making it a very clear it is meant to be Ed Buck…felt and feels a little bit questionable, since we don’t know how the family members of the victims would feel about this…

When reading this issue the first time back in 2021, I did find myself thinking about Rosenberg’s representation of Wolfsbane’s death as an allegory for violence against trans people a few years ago…and the question of whether comics SHOULD be the space to talk about honestly a pretty complex and sensitive issue…

But I do also see the other side of it- in a world where there’s a LOT of debate about LGBTQIA+ rights- isn’t it important to talk about the reality that LGBTQIA+ identities often face a higher likelihood of being victims of violence?

(https://www.pbs.org/newshour/amp/nation/study-finds-lgbtq-people-much-likelier-to-be-crime-victims)

(https://williamsinstitute.law.ucla.edu/press/ncvs-lgbt-violence-press-release/)

But I also see fans feeling tired of every LGBTQIA+ story focusing around depression, violence, death, suicide, and repression…

The originally planned but ultimately shelved story of Anole killing himself, IS, I think a good example of this problem. Anole HAS been pretty positive representation and the idea of using Victor’s death as a wake up call for Elixir when looking at it now- IS pretty problematic…

I am personally GLAD editorial cut the Anole story and I prefer the direction D+W took instead with Academy X.

I personally didn’t find the issue as graphic as many were critiquing it for online, when it first came out…but I do feel a tad bit uncomfortable that it is based on a real case, in a situation where again, you don’t know how people close to the victims would feel about it being incorporated in fiction….

While I definitely don’t think Williams meant any harm with issue #10…I think the reality is there isn’t a clear answer on this issue of representation, other than if you ARE going to tell these kinds of stories…make sure you are doing it in the most sensitive way possible.

[igotanidea]

Counterparts : Morpheus x OC chapter 9

Prologue

Chapter 1: sometimes reality sucks

Chapter 2 : Welcome back to reality

Chapter 3 : A rough nightmare

Chapter 4: Crumbling

Chapter 5 : Falling to pieces

Chapter 6: Reunited

Chapter 7 : Remedies

Chapter 8 : The Fates

Go check my other story: Raven's daughter: Morpheus x Matthew's daughter

Chapter 9

On the verge

When we arrive in London it is obviously raining. What’s new? It’s no problem for Morpheus, such aura seems to fit his personality quite well, but I’d rather not get wet. Don’t want to get sick after all. As I turn around I spot a canopy and quickly hide myself there for shelter.

-What are you doing? – he asked amused

-Protecting myself from catching cold.

-You know well enough you won’t get one.

-I’m not so sure anymore. A lot of things has changed since you’ve been gone – oh my, I sound like a Kelly Clarkson song now.

Before he can respond we spot a flying figure who roars through the air and land on the bridge.

-Matthew! – I say smiling at my friend

-Hello Kayleen.

-Lucienne send you?

-Pretty much so.

Morpheus pouts.

-I don’t need a raven.

-Lucienne told me you’re going to say that.

-I already have one tail – Dream looks down at me.

-You know why animals have tails? It helps them keep balance – I spat – Besides, you wanted me to come, remember?

-Do you even know who I am? – Morpheus ask the raven turning a deaf ear on me.

-I know something. Like you’re the king of Dreaming. You create dreams and nightmares. You’ve been gone for the last century so Lucienne and Kayleen been tending to your Realm. With great effort I admit

Dream just nods his head.

-Fly back to the Dreaming, Matthew. This world is not safe.

-I know that. I’ve lived my whole life here.

-I’ll drink to that – I say tapping my fingers on the bridge.

-I had one raven before – Morpheus states catching Matthew’s attention.

-Really? What happened to him?

Her name was Jessamy – I reply quickly, knowing well enough how painful this memory is for Dream.

-She died – Morpheus’s face is blank.

-Oh… - Matthew seems hesitant. – Well at least let me help you find this woman.

Morpheus sighs in surrender.

-Come than – he commands and we follow him.

-Where exactly are we going? -  I ask after a second – Any idea about where she could be? Shall we find her in the Dreaming or the Waking?

-You may as well do a bit of your magic, Reality

Fine. I sharpen my sense and search through the streets of the city. Trying to catch anything of Johanna Constantine. A strand of consciousness.

-I got here. She’s heading for the cathedral. Apparently, our little one is an exorcist. Heading for a job.

-Good.

-Good? – Matthew caws – we’re going to be a part of demon party, now?

-You’ll get used to him –I reassure the bird – just give or take a couple hundred years.  

-Will you two stop? We got work to do. This should be quick considering her family ties.

-I doubt that – I chime in

-What did you say? – he grabs my arm quite angrily

-Let. Go. Of. Me.

-And what if I don’t?

-Why exactly did you want me here, Dream? Hmm? To have someone you can vent on? You know damn well I can just walk away this very second.

-Than why don’t you?

-I…. you know why – I whisper

-No. I want to hear it from you.

-Forget it – I hastily yank myself free.

-Don’t you dare forgetting who you’re dealing with – he warns.

-Save your breath, you can’t scare me. Your nightmares did that work for the last couple of decades. Trust me, there’s no fear left in me that they haven’t pried on.

He seems surprised but says nothing.

-I promised to make it right.

-Then maybe start it the right way, you know. Oh! – I stop abruptly which make Morpheus bump into my back. He instantly holds my waist to support himself.

-Hands. Off. Me. – I spat but can’t deny the heatwave though my body.

-Why did you stop?

-There’s our target – I point to the woman in white coat standing a couple feet away from us. Thankfully, she showed up before the situation between me and Morpheus got awkward. 

-Constantine – Dream speaks in his most ominous voice. Trying his best to intimidate the woman. Huh. Something tells me she’s not the one to easily surrender.  

-Have we met? – she approach us, narrowing eyes.

-We have business, you and I.

-Get in line, bruv. Can’t keep God waiting – she spats and walks away leaving him dumbfounded. I look at him with a smirk waiting for reaction. I don’t need words, silence speaks for itself. He just stare at space, no emotion, the wheels in his brain turning. I roll my eyes and follow Johanna inside.

-What are you doing?

-Getting the job done – I answer as I walk away.

-Is he always like that? – Matthew lands on my shoulder

-You mean an idiot? Yes. Yes, he is.

-Well you’re relationship seems at least…. Interesting.

-It was always a bit… intense – I say – I guess we’re both stubborn asses getting on one another nerves. I think it’s going to get better but with him being gone for the last century we need to patch some things up.   

It’s been quite a while since I visited the London Cathedral. I almost forgot how beautiful it is. Last time I took my students there so they can get some inspiration from the ancient stories and mythology scenes painted on the walls. It was 30 years after Morpheus was captured (damn! I hope I won’t be determining the time like “post – capture” and “before- capture” – I curse myself internally).

Flashback

-Professor, which myth do you like most? – one of my students asked as she looked at the walls and ceiling covered with art.  

-That’s the question I should be asking you – I replied – well played though. Don’t forget it is still a lecture for you to learn even if you’re not in the classroom.

-Sorry…. – she muttered

-Don’t be. Gather round – I say as the students come near me – So, ever since the ancient times, people were using their imagination to try and explain things and processes surrounding them. Looking for some higher beings that rule the world. That’s how the myths began. Of the gods and goddesses, of deities and some supernatural beings….. People get inspiration from the outside world. The same thing you are doing when you try to write, am I right? - The class nods - so,  who would like to share with others their favorite myth? I bet there is something.

-I like the story of Orpheus -one of the girls, Gina says shyly.

-Go on, then – I encouraged her

-According to the original story, he was the son of one of the muses – Calliope and the god Apollo. Well known for his talent of telling the stories. When his wife, Eurydice was sent to Hades he had no hesitation but to follow and retrieve her. The story says that he charmed the queen of the underground, Persephone so much that she and Hades let Eurydice go back.  The only condition was that Orpheus go first and cannot turn to see her. He broke that rule and he lost his wife forever. – Gina keeps talking her eyes getting bigger and brighter with every word – Such a tragic and romantic  story – she sighs. Oh dear, I suppose I owe her some explanation.

-Gina? You might want to calm down. Do not fly off, ok? Reality is calling on you. Besides, there is another side to the story. Some other ancient authors claimed that Orpheus origin was quite different.

-How so?

-It’s a bit of a secret but apparently his father was in fact Morpheus. In Greek we call him Oneiros.

-The shaper of the forms? – someone asked

-The Lord of the Dreams? – other added

-Indeed. Let me tell you more about it. But remember, it’s just a story.

Quite a story. If only my students knew how real and heartbreaking it really was. After all, Morpheus and Calliope did not get a happy ending to their marriage. “He’s really not a relationship material, more like a tragic one standing in the rain, contemplating the futility of his lonely existence” – Despairs words echoed in my head.

End of flashback

-Hey, Kay, can you hear that? – Matthew squawks right to my ear bringing me down to Eearth.

-Stop making me deaf – I scoff – if you refer to the Latin chanting I hear it quite well. That’s my cue to check how’s the situation going.

Apparently, Johanna dressed up as a priest was supposed to marry some happy couple (Wait, is that a princess?). Well, not so happy considering that the groom was possessed by a demon who ripped his body apart in full view of the bride. Poor girl, I wonder if wiping her memory of that moment would be much of an abuse of power. At the moment, it seems like the shock prevent her from passing out and the other priest quickly take her away.  

-Tell me your name demon – Johanna says

-And why would I do that when there are far more enjoyable ways to make you stop your little exorcism – he turns showing himself in whole

-His name is Agilieth – Morpheus steps out of the shadow. Oh, so there he was hiding all this time.

-Lord Morpheus. I’m flattered you remember me, after all your time away.

-Lord Morpheus? – Johanna repeats a bit confused.

-He is. And I can see the Protector of the Waking, Lady Kayleen is with you.  

-Oh, for God’s sake! – demon’s words annoy me more than they should –I’m not Lady. And I’m not with him. I’m not some belonging! It’s more like an adult supervision ….. – before I could finish the sentence Morpheus appears next to me cutting me off.

-I almost didn’t recognize you without your help. I wonder where it might be…. – Agilieth teases almost like he wanted to see Morpheus at his worst.

-I suppose it’s in Hell with a demon to whom it was traded.

-Yes, but which demon?  Give me the princess and I’ll tell you.

Shit. This is something that Dream might actually do. I have to draw line here.

-No – I state firmly – this is not happening.

-You don’t speak for me – Morpheus almost kills me with his eyes.

-I speak for the Waking.

Meanwhile Johanna resumes her exorcism and the demon yells in pain.

-Fine! Fine! – he screams – I’ll tell you everything just don’t send me back!

-Constantine stop! – Dream screams at her – I command you.

-Dream of the Endless commands you ! – demon tries to safe himself but it’s futile. With the demon gone we just stand in silence.

-You have no idea what you just did – Morpheus says.

-I know. I’ve just tripled my fee. – the woman flashes a smile and leaves screaming something about an invoice.

-Did I tell already tell you that your human skills are rusty? I think you should let me handle this one, Morpheus. Otherwise you may end up with nothing.

-She’s just a human – Morpheus spats

-So am I. Let me do this – I look at him – You know this is just courtesy of me to even ask, right? I’m going to do it either way.

- I don’t want you here anymore Kayleen.

-You… wait, what?

-I want you gone.

-Like, now? – I furrow my brows. I did not see that coming.

-Precisely. I want you to go back to Waking for good. From now on, you and I shall contact only on official matter. You are stubborn, infuriating and your sarcasm is beyond any acceptance. You never listen, spend too much time in your own thoughts and manipulate everyone.

-Manipulate…. ? – my voice falter as for some reason that was the most hurtful adjective he used to describe me.

-Indeed.

-Fine. – I turn around - have it your way. – I’m sorry, Matthew – I say to the raven – guess I’ll see you around, come visit me. You are always welcome. 

@asianfrustration13 @musicconversedance

@hyper-half-blood @missusnora @deniixlovezelda @mikariell95

[edupunkn00b]

The Uses of Adversity, Ch. 12: We Will All Be Changed

Prev - We Will Be Changed - Next - Masterpost - [ AO3 ]

WC: 3073 - Rated: T - CW: arguing, redacted slur, flashback, dissociation

Speak now don't tarry on like it's Always gonna be Hold child this expectation But don't forget to love - We Will All Be Changed, Seryn ---

Still two miles out from his exit home, Logan gripped the steering wheel a little tighter, jaw muscles twitching in his effort to stay silent in the face of Kelly's rant. “And don’t you dare lecture me about responsible parenting, Logan,” Kelly hissed, twisted in her seat and glaring, finger stabbing the air next to him, punctuating each word. “I’m not the one who left a thirteen year old alone with some strange man! I never would’ve agreed to him not coming if I’d known that’s who'd be watching him!” She scoffed, one artfully polished nail scraping against his sleeve. “No wonder you were in such a rush to leave and didn’t invite me in!”

“You arrived almost an hour later than we—”

“There was traffic!”

“Yes, and Virgil was anxious we would hit even more traffic on the way up to Bellingham.” He inhaled slowly and checked his mirrors, then his speedometer, forcing more of his attention back to his driving and ignoring the cold churn in his stomach. It would be fine. The worst she would do in a moving car was yell. “Our son is perfectly well cared for. Roman is my boss' brother-in-law. You’ve even met him before.” Hiding his relief that Kelly did not seem to remember anything about Roman, Logan signaled, checked his mirrors, then his blind spot before changing lanes for the upcoming exit back to his house. “At Seattle Law, he was an assistant teacher at the child care center that Remy and Virgil attended. He's great with kids and is a really good guy.“

Kelly sucked her teeth and turned up the radio. “Can he handle Patton's behavior problems?”

It hadn't taken long for Kelly to return to this old thread. Better this than Roman? He wasn't sure. “We’ve discussed this.” Logan gritted his teeth and breathed past the phantom ache in his fingers. He flexed his hand before saying, very quietly, “Neurodivergency is not a behavioral problem.” 

She scoffed and rolled her eyes. “Whatever.” She looked around as Logan signaled again and slowly eased onto the off ramp. “Wait. This is the wrong exit. We always take 18 to get to your place.”

“Yes. My home is equidistant between this exit and the next. Unless there is road work on 124th, when traveling South, I take this exit.”

“Well, you should take the other one.” Her eyes bored into him but kept his attention on the road and his mirrors. “We always do,” she said again, the fresh emphasis telling him who she was talking about.

“So, how is Mark?” he asked weakly. His blatant desperation to change the subject, his desperation to short circuit yet another fight was just blood in the water.

“Smooth, Logan,” she sneered, but then her tone went syrupy sweet. “Mark is great. In fact tomorrow, we’re looking at houses up in Bothell. We’re looking at the schools up there, too…”

Logan’s grip on the steering wheel tightened reflexively and he glanced at her from the corner of his eye. She smiled back. “We wouldn’t dream of making any changes to the parenting plan without going through the proper channels, of course,” she murmured softly, like thunder in the distance. “Won’t it be nice for Patton and his new little brother to go to the same school?”

“Patton starts ninth grade in the fall,” his brow furrowed, alarm bells screaming in his head. “And…” It took a moment for the name to surface. “Caleb is a second grader.”

“Heritage is a private school for grades K through 12,” Kelly remarked. “Patton would have good influences there.”

Logan frowned. “Heritage is a religious school,” he remarked before he could stop himself. “And they’ve been taken to court at least four times this year for viola—”

“Last I checked, Logan, there was still freedom of religion in this country,” she said airily. Again, he felt her eyes on him. Stopped at a red light, he glanced over and shuddered at her little smirk. She was baiting him and he knew it. But he couldn’t hold his tongue.

“Patton is happy where he is,” Logan said carefully.

“Patton is coddled where he is,” Kelly snapped, sickly sweet tone evaporating in a snarl. “He’s going to need to get his grades up if he has any hopes of scholarships like his brothers. He needs to start taking his education seriously.”

Logan breathed slowly and again counted to five before speaking. “Kels, that is a mischaracterization of Patton’s school experience and—”

“Don’t call me that.” She fell silent for a while before shrugging. “Besides, it isn’t completely up to you anyway. Mark will be his stepfather soon and he has a say in the matter.”

Logan did not answer, and, with more than a little relief, turned into his driveway alongside Kelly’s candy red BMW. She flung open the door and jogged up the porch steps before he could even cut the engine. Counting his breaths, Logan set the parking brake, shifted into Park, then turned the key and followed her.  

~~~

She stepped aside only long enough for Logan to unlock the door, then pushed her way through, not even waiting for him to pull the key from the lock. “Patton? Patton, honey?” she called out in her PTA mom voice. Logan’s skin crawled at the saccharine tone, her words still edged with the promise of… anger or retribution or—

“Oh, hi, Mom,” Patton’s voice echoed down the hall. Logan’s hand shook as he struggled with the key and he forced a slow breath, on old, slimy panic inching up his throat. “You’re back. Where’s—“ His voice muffled at the end, probably pulled into a hug. Logan finally retrieved the key and stepped inside. Guilt clashed with relief when he saw Kelly hugging Patton, both smiling. Patton looked up and, impossibly, his smile grew. “Dad!” he said and wiggled out her hold to grab Logan’s hand. “Look at what I did today!” he tugged Logan closer to their chore chart and the long row of happy face stickers next to his name.

“I got all my homework done, hung up all my clothes, and took out the trash,” he pointed at the chart, bouncing on his toes. “All the trash, too, and emptied the dishwasher. And Roman even helped me make dinner!”

“He didn’t need much help,” Roman’s low voice rumbled from the kitchen and he stepped out, drying his hands. He’d tied on Logan’s well-worn ‘Combine for Pie’ apron, the top tight over his broad chest. But it… suited him, the faded navy blue accenting the green in his eyes, bits of cornmeal smudged at the apron's edges only proving its worth. Roman ruffled Patton’s hair and grinned. “Pat’s quite the chef.”

“He really is,” Logan agreed, smiling back at Roman and breathing again. The savory scents of cumin and a dark chocolate mole sauce filled his lungs and his smile broadened. He gave Patton’s hand another squeeze and grinned proudly at his son. “You’ve worked hard today, Patton. You should be proud of yourself.”

“Hello, Kelly." Logan blinked, head jerking up at Roman's sudden greeting. He’d actually forgotten she was standing there. Roman smiled at her, a little stiff, maybe, but polite and warm. "The enchiladas will be done in about an hour,” He inclined his head, an almost bow. “And there’s plenty. Are you staying for dinner?”

She stared at Roman, eyes flicking over his jewelry and his eyeliner, and at Patton’s expression as he grinned up at him. She narrowed her eyes at Roman’s hand where it now rested on Patton’s shoulder. Ice filled Logan’s veins at the steel behind her fake smile.

“Logan,” she said, turning to him as though Roman no longer existed. “I can’t believe you’d let some *** babysit my son.”

“Mom!” Patton cried and moved back, closer to Roman and keeping himself between him and Kelly.

“What the hell’s the matter with you?” Logan hissed at her and she blinked at him, her shock at his outburst quickly replaced with anger. She scowled and opened her mouth but he cut her off. “You may not say such things to my friends, you may not say such things in my home or in front of my son!” He opened the door wider and stepped aside, joining Patton and Roman. Patton held tight to his hand, and reached behind him with the other to hold onto Roman’s arm. Logan stood close enough to feel the warmth pouring off Roman’s side but he couldn’t bear to meet his eyes. “Please leave.”

“Oh, come off it, Logan,” she rolled her eyes and stepped closer. “Take off the SJW cape for five seconds and consider—”

“Please leave, now,” he said again. His voice shook and he had to lock his knees to stop their trembling, but he didn’t stand down and he didn’t look away.

Her hands twitched at her sides as she glared back at him. After a long, breathless moment, her eyes darted over his shoulder at Roman, but he'd remained still and silent. “Fine,” she spat, stepping through the open door. She narrowed her eyes at Logan and her face twisted into a smirk. “You’re going to regret this, Logan.”

“I have a lot of regrets, Kelly,” he said, voice calmer than his shaking grip on the door should have permitted. “I’ll add it to the pile.” He didn’t wait for her response and instead closed and locked the door as soon as she was through.

Once it closed, he fell against the door, forehead pressed to the cold, smooth surface.

“Hey, Pat,” he heard Roman’s voice behind him. It was distorted and wobbly, like the periscope ‘phones’ at the park. Or tin cans connected with a string. “Why don’t you go set up a new Mario Kart tournament? I’ll be right down.” 

At some point, Logan must have released Patton’s hand. Fingers and wrist throbbing, his entire body trembled. Each breath caught in his throat, dull hooks dragging and and snagging against his flesh. Patton’s voice was too quiet to make out his words over the roaring in his ears, but he caught Roman’s soft response. “I’ll make sure he’s okay.”

Patton said something else, a sharp edge of worry in his voice. “I’m okay, too, Pat. We’re too strong for the haters, aren't we?”

The hallway darkened and after a moment, Logan couldn’t hear anything over the sound of his own blood pumping in his ears. He panted, both hands pressed hard against the door. A motorcycle raced past outside, and the rumbling engine vibrated under his hands, shifting into a pounding on the door. 

“Logan? Logan, don’t you walk away from me when I’m talking to you!” BANG BANG BANG

He pushed hard against it, keeping the door sealed shut, keeping everything out.

“I—I—I need a moment, Kels, p—please. I—” BANG BANG BANG

He tested the lock. The door was bolted shut. They were safe. They were safe.

“The kids will be back with my parents any minute and we’re not done talking!” BANG BANG BANG “Open the damn door!”

He couldn't hide in here forever but if he could just collect himself, he could—

BANG BANG BANG “Logan? Logan!” BANG BANG BANG 

The door was locked. No-one could get in. They were safe. They were safe, they were safe, they were safe, they were safe, they were safe…

BANG BANG BANG “Logan!”

Roman watched Patton descend the stairs to the game room. He looked back twice, eyes big with worry for his dad. Roman smiled back, “Everything’s gonna be okay, Pat,” he said again. Finally, Patton nodded and went downstairs. He waited until he heard the door click shut before approaching Logan. "Lo?" he murmured. Logan faced the door, both hands pressed against it like he was pushing her away. He muttered under his breath and Roman stepped closer, trying to understand. “Lo? Tell me, what do you need?” he asked quietly and gripped his shoulder. “Logan?”

“No, please!” Logan cried and slid to the floor, hands covering his head.

Roman dropped his hand and leapt back. “Shit, Lo, I'm sorry. I—I didn't mean to startle you.” Logan was practically curled in a ball, trembling as he covered his head and his face. Not startled.

Terrified.

Roman took a deep breath, forcing calm into his body, then crouched down so he was nearly at eye level. “You're safe, Lo. I shouldn't have touched you without asking, Lo. I’m sorry. I won't do it again.” His trembling slowed. He was listening. "You're safe, Lo," Roman said again.

Still panting, Logan slowly lowered his arms and sat on the floor with his back pressed against the door. He blinked at him through watery eyes, tears dotting his lenses. “Ro—Roman?” After a long moment, his vision seemed to clear. “Roman.” He shook his head and sucked in an unsteady breath. “I… I'm sorry. I’m sorry. I…" Logan looked at the walls around them, almost confused about where he was. "I overreacted.” He shook his head, eyes fixed on the floor between them. “I… I'm sorry.”

“Hey, hey, hey, hey,” he murmured, keeping his voice low and steady. “No…” Roman tilted his head down to meet Logan’s eyes. “No. It's okay to not want someone to touch you without your permission, Lo.”

“You didn't… I'm fine. I'm sorry.” He pulled his knees up to his chest and hugged them tight, fingertips white where they dug into his calves. A shield. His eyes grew more focused and he nodded. “I’m fine, I—" Logan's eyes shot up to Roman's. "Oh, god, Roman, I can't believe she said that. I'm so sorry.”

“You’re not responsible for her,” Roman gave him a lopsided grin. “There's a reason you divorced her, right?”

“Yeah,” Logan whispered and looked away, staring at a knot in the hardwood floor. Roman watched a tic under his eye jump, and how his hands shook against his legs. He still wasn’t breathing normally, either, holding his breath for an inordinately long time, and he seemed just a few steps away from wheezing. At this angle, Logan’s crooked fingers, the scar on his jaw and the other one by his ear were all visible. Roman had seen flashes of the burn that covered his palm, the mark where his wedding ring had seared the back of his finger just the most outward sign.

Realization crashed down on him, a wave of icy cold water that stole his breath as he stared at his… his friend.

“Hey, Lo?” Roman took another deep breath and sat completely, close enough that Logan could reach him if he wanted, but he didn’t invade his personal space again. “You can tell me to fuck off if I'm overstepping…” Logan looked up, eyes wide and guarded, and it took every bit of control Roman had not to just pull him right into his lap and wrap his arms around him. “Does she… does she hurt you?”

“What?” Logan shook his head and slid back, pressed into the corner near the door. He seemed to shrink, shoulders curled and arms wrapped even more tightly around his shins. “No. No, of c—course not. We h—h—hardly see ea—each other. It—it—it's…” Logan’s voice faded and he still wouldn’t meet his eyes.

“Did she?” Roman’s voice was quiet and calm. Logan looked up.

“W—we…" His head wobbled, almost a nod. "We had some p—pretty hea—heated arguments.” Logan looked away and Roman's eyes fell on another scar on his chin. Up close, the one on his ear looked like it had been a tear right through his earlobe. 

Roman nodded, forcing his hands to remain still in his lap and not just reach for him. He longed to push away the shadows Logan had wrapped around him, memories of old hurts. Kiss his scars and his tears, soothe his aches. But after the way he’d reacted before… 

Logan followed his gaze and hid his scarred hand behind his leg. “P—Patton’s waiting for you downstairs.” He nodded up at the chore chart on the wall. “He's done all his chores. I don't know how you did that but…” Logan smiled. It was tight, and his bottom lip trembled, but was genuine. “He's earned some happy time.”

“You wanna come down and play with us? It's easy to add another player.” Roman slid just a bit closer. “Having his dad there would make it an actually happy time for him.”

“Um…” He swallowed, his breathing still erratic. “Yes. Yes…” Logan nodded his head rapidly, more a tremor than a sign of affirmation. “I… ah, j—just need to… maybe g—get some tea.” He swallowed again and breathed heavily through his nose, lip caught between his teeth.

Roman watched Logan’s tremor. He gave him a small smile as he reached out to touch his forearm, but pulled back at the last moment. “I can make it and you can relax—” He gestured toward the kitchen but Logan recoiled, shame filling his face even as he dodged Roman’s touch.

Biting his own lip, Roman tried again. “Would company help while you make it? Or would it be more helpful to have some alone time?”

Logan stared up at him, eyes wide, the question behind them clear. How do you always know?

“A few minutes alone might help, thank you,” he murmured. “T—to collect… collect myself. If you don't mind, I… I don't mean to—“

He met Logan’s eyes and poured his heart into his smile. “Of course I don’t mind.” He stood, then offered both hands. Logan stared at them for a long moment before gripping them, fingers cold and shaking, palms clammy. Roman squeezed gently, thumbs rubbing circles against the backs of his hands. Keeping his movements slow and steady, he helped Logan onto his feet and nodded. It was difficult to let go, and he couldn’t resist one more gentle squeeze before eventually releasing Logan’s hands. 

He started back toward the stairs but looked over his shoulder, not really ready to leave him alone but wanted to give him what he asked for. “Is it okay if I come check on you in ten minutes if we don't see you down there by then?”

Logan nodded, still not completely himself, but his eyes had lost some of their haunted look and he met his gaze. He opened his mouth, but nothing came out and fresh tears welled. Finally, he made a little shooing gesture, a stiff smile painted on his face.

“We’ll see you in a bit. Ten minutes,” Roman emphasized with another smile. “And you know Patton, once he hears you’re playing, too, he won’t let you get out of it.”

---

Taglist: @crossiantgay Ask to be added :)

[sl-newsie]

Eyes And Ears: Kid Blink x Brooklyn girl *Mafia*

“Goodddeee!” A muffled voice calls from the surface.

I swim up from the river bottom and find Scab wait’n on the docks.

“Hey Scab, what’s happening?” I spit out some water and wipe the hair outta my face.

The freckled-faced spy squints in the bright sunlight. “Got a message from King. Says he’s gonna be having you escorted from now on.”

I groan. “Ugghh. Why? Colon knows I can take care-a myself! Why now do I gotta have a babysitter?!”

Scab shrugs. “Donno. All I know is I ain’t the one babysitting. You’ll find out when ya get back to the lodging house, so get out and dry off so I can have you back in time for dinner.”

My heart wants to keep swimming ‘til the sun sets, but my head tells me to do as Scab says in order to avoid Colon’s wrath. I hesitantly climb up the ladder and gather my boots ‘nd hat. Look’n out, my sharp eyes can just make out a new barge making its way towards the harbor.

Scab hands me a towel. “Ya know, you should wear someth’n more than just shorts ‘nd a tank top.”

I scoff and twist my blonde hair into a knot. “Why? All tha guys wear this when they swim, why can’t I?”

“You’s a goil, and it’s dangerous for a goil to be act’n so rash.”

“If you’s refer’n to the Queens gang that tried to jump me last week then save it. I got the rant from King a few days ago ‘bout how I should ‘be more modest,’ and ‘be more careful ‘cause-a my hear’n problem.’ Believe me, it was a long speech.” I grunt as I throw a stone out into the river. “I just wish he’d trust me more.”

“He does.” Scab walks up beside me. “‘S just he’s worried that your… condition might be untrustworthy.”

“How can he say that?” I gape. “How does he know what’s best for me? He ain’t my fadda, and he ain’t my brodda! Just ‘cause I work as his lookout don’t mean he can decide what’s right for me!”

Scab holds up his hand and makes a lowering motion. “Goldie, you’re shouting again.”

I scrunch my face into a scowl and harsh-whisper: “I don’t care! I might be half-deaf, but that don’t mean I’s helpless! My eyes can point out a black ant in a box-a coffee beans!”

“Never said you were,” Scab says calmly. “But sometimes you gotta accept that ya need help-”

“Excuse me?”

We both turn and see a guy hiding in the dark, half his face in the shadows. Scab immediately tenses up and gets ready to run, but I’s more of a fighter and prepare a wide stance.

“Who are you and why’re you in Brooklyn? You ain’t from here!” I bark.

The guy steps back a bit. “No need to yell, I’s just here to deliver a message personally to Spot Colon. Kelly sent me, name’s Kid Blink.” He steps out fully outta the dark to shake my hand, and I can now see that his left eye is covered by an eyepatch. That’s strange.

I give Kid Blink a suspicious glance, then partake in a sturdy handshake.

“You’s here for King?”

“That’s correct, miss.”

Gotta say, I applaud him for his manners. I look back at Scab, who’s look’n more like a timid deer.

“Go back and tell Colon he’s got a visitor.”

“Why can’t I just walk in-?” Blink asks.

“‘Cause I don’t want just any random ‘Hattan stranger waltzing into our territory. So just cool your jets and wait ‘til we get the all-clear from Colon, got it?” I put my hands on my hips.

Kid Blink frowns and gives an impatient sigh, but eventually nods. Scab gives me a questioning look, but still follows my directions and goes off to report to Spot.

Beside me, Blink quickly starts to get antsy. “So you’re Colon’s security?”

I huff. “No, just the lookout. Colon doesn’t think I can handle the big stuff, so he just has me perched up on some crates everyday look’n for anyth’n unusual.”

“I see. So what’s your name?”

“Goldie, but everybody calls me Goldfish.” I smile.

The eyepatch guy laughs. “What do they call you that?”

I roll my eyes. “‘Cause I’s the best swimmer in Brooklyn, and my hair’s golden. So when Colon foist called by Goldfish the name stuck.”

Kid Blink grins. “Neat name. Guess someday I might have ya teach me.”

I frown. “To swim? You don’t know how to swim?! That’s crazy!”

He shrugs and starts pacing. “When ya spend all your life in tha city there’s no reason to. You lucky Brooklyn guys get to swim all the time! Sometimes I wish I- wdvgntbrk-” His words blur out as he walks farther away, and I can already tell that my left ear’s giving me trouble. Uh-oh. Not again.

“What?” I hold my hand up to my ear and lean in closer.

Blink gets a confused look. “Ya still can’t hear me? Are ya deaf or someth’n?”

I avoid his gaze and busy myself by kicking a rock across the dock. “Um… Kinda. When I was 8 I was in a house fire. Just before I got out, an explosion knocked me down. When I woke up my ear was ring’n, and it’s never been the same.”

Blink’s face changes. “That’s why you’s always yelling. So… your folks…?” he asks hesitantly.

“Yeah. They’s dead.” I quickly wipe the dark memory from my head and continue to toss stones into the dark wadda. “But I’ve grown out of it. Brooklyn’s all the family I need. Sorry ‘bout the rant ‘nd all, ‘s just that I don’t get to talk much. Ya know, be’n by myself most-a the day.”

Blink shakes his head. “I don’t mind. In all honesty I don’t get much chit-chat either ‘cause Kelly always has us guards stay quiet. Says it’s more ‘intimidating.’”

“If you’s security then why’re you here?”

Blink shrugs. “Boots, our messenger, got caught up in someth’n, so Kelly sent me instead.”

I nod. “What ‘bout you? You got folks?”

Blink leans against a crate and shakes his head. “Sort-a. My ma left my fadda when I was 6, and my fadda basically left me to fend for myself. Sometimes I see him work’n odd jobs here ‘nd there, but he don’t recognize me. By the way-” He looks over at me. “I know you’re wonder’n ‘bout the patch.”

A blush spreads over my face, but Blink just laughs.

“It’s alright. Lots-a people ask ‘bout it. Wanna see?” His face lights up.

My eyes widen. “Really? Ya don’t mind?”

He waves it off. “Nah. Why would I go around be’n called ‘Kid Blink’ if I didn’t want people ask’n ‘bout it? It’s a good way for business too, ‘cause it makes me look intimidat’n ‘nd all.”

He walks up and pulls back his eyepatch, reveal’n a long, dark scar scratched across his eyelid. “I still got my eye, but when I foist started out on my own a Bronx gang jumped me and tried to rob me. I tried to fight back, but they cut up my eye as a ‘warning.’ Few days later I met Jack, and he gave those Bronx fellas a soak’n they’d never forget. Now I act as Cowboy’s security to repay the favor, plus it’s a steady living.”

I sadly shake my head. “I know how ya feel. Last week Colon sent me on an errand, only for a Queens gang to try to rough me up. Thankfully Riff had been passing by and helped me out, but I was still shaken up. Now Colon won’t ever let me leave, and he owes a debt to Riff.” I continue to examine his scared eye and hold a hand up to it. “May I?”

He nods. “Go right ahead, doll.”

I rub my thumb along the scar, trying desperately to ignore how close our faces are. Blink’s good eye is a deep golden brown, and he never looks away as I analyze his scar.

“Looks painful.”

Blink gives me a soft smile. “Could’ve been worse. At least I have one good eye to see your pretty face.”

I blush and push the comment away. “There’s faces out there far prettier than mine, Blink. Ones that have ears that work.”

Kid Blink starts to argue, but then I see Scab ‘nd King walk’n up and I take my hand away from his eye. When the King of Brooklyn struts up, I give him a stiff nod and gesture to the guy behind me.

“Goldfish. What’s the scoop?”

“Name’s Kid Blink, says Kelly sent him to deliver a message.”

Colon frowns. “Where’s Boots?”

“Got caught up,” Blink informs him.

“Shame. Haven’t seen him in a while. So what’s the message, Blink?”

“Kelly wanted you to know that there’s an emergency meeting next Friday regarding the new gang in the West Side. Manhattan’s hosting, and both the Sharks and Jets will be attending, as well as a few from Queens.”

Both Colon and me exchange stern glances, remembering what those Queens nearly did to me.

“I got a bone to pick with Queens, but for Kelly’s sake I’ll play nice… for now. Tell him he can count on Brooklyn being there.”

Him and Blink shake hands, then Blink says: “One more thing, Colon. If I could ask one favor?”

Spot looks surprised. “What favor?”

Kid Blink looks over at me, then back at King. “If I could have the privilege to take Goldie out to Medda’s Joint for a night off. She says she don’t get much social time, and Medda’s is a good place for dinner.”

Huh?

I almost think I didn’t hear it right. This guy, outta nowhere, wants to spend time with me?

I shift uncomfortably. “Um, Blink? I’m in ragged pants, an oversized shoit, and half-soak’n wet. I ain’t in any condition to go anywhere.”

He shakes his head and looks me up and down. “You look beautiful. Trust me, some-a the strangers in ‘Hattan dress in literal rags. Your attire is prime material compared to some.”

But now Spot butts in. “And just what makes you think that I’ll let Goldfish go to ‘Hattan with you? You literally just met her!”

“Sir,” Blink has a sincere look on his face and looks Colon dead-on in the face. “Goldie is one-a the most unique goils I’ve ever met. She deserves more than just be’n kept here only ‘cause she has a hear’n problem. Please, just let her leave Brooklyn for once in her life.”

In my head I think: It’s what I’ve wanted all my life, maybe this time I really can live! Maybe this guy can talk some sense into him…?

Spot scratches his head. “Well… If Kelly trusts you enough to fill in for Boots, then I guess I can trust you too. But!” He grabs Blink’s shirt and pulls him in to whisper someth’n, and I can barely make it out: “...hear’n ain’t too good… been through a lot… kept safe… you’ll be sorry.”

I get the message, and I think Blink does too due to his shocked expression. It ain’t every day that Colon does death threats, but when he does it’s very entertaining.

Spot now comes up to me and puts a hand on my shoulder. “Now be careful, Goldie. Ya know how much I worry ‘bout ya, and I don’t want anodda… accident. If this guy so much as touches you I’ll rip his odda eye out. Manhattan’s a safe place, but still keep your guard up. Your ear ain’t too good, but keep your eyes open. You’s the closest I got to a sister, so please be careful.”

I bring Spot in for a hug, which is very rare for the King of Brooklyn to give affection. “I will, Spot. I think I can trust him, and I’ve heard from Bucky that Medda’s is a nice place. Don’t worry, I’ll be fine.”

After Colon walks away while dragging a protesting Scab with him, I turn back at Blink and give him a lopsided grin.

“Spot’s a stubborn jerk sometimes, but ya gotta luv him.”

Blink gives me an animated look. “Yeah, and fear him. So, you wanna get outta here?” He offers an arm, which I take gratefully.

“Very much so!”

The walk into Manhattan is much more enjoyable than Brooklyn. King always keeps a heavy thumb on crime to the point that even children are afraid to be outside. In Manhattan, kids are playing outside without a care in the world. The markets are full-a fresh-smelling baked goods, bright fruits, sweet-smelling flowers, and much more! The crowd’s start’n to clear out since it’s sunset, but there’s still lots-a people. But I keep Spot’s advice awake in my head and keep my eyes sharp for any danger.

Blink must sense my unease, ‘cause he comments: “Don’t worry. The only trouble for us has been Detective Weasel and Sergeant Snyder, and Denton’s kept us well-informed enough for us to be one step ahead.”

I keep look’n around. “But I thought the Delancy broddas-?”

“Don’t worry. They got re-stationed to the Upper East Side. Manhattan’s been a prime spot for months, which is why the market’s been so good- thsye…” His words are drowned out by the noisy crowd and I have to lean in to listen. When Blink sees my frustration he leads me down an alley that leads to a backroad. “Here, this leads to Medda’s and ain’t as loud.”

I let out an aggravated groan. “I’m sorry. I wish my stupid ear would work right!” We continue to walk down the path, and every once in a while I notice a few carts rush’n in and outta different alleyways.

Kid Blink chuckles. “Wish my eye would work right. One time I-”

“Look out!” I quickly yank Blink outta the way as a carriage speeds past, just missing us by a hair.

Blink’s shocked face looks at me with an open mouth while look’n back ‘nd forth from me to the cart that’s get’n further away. Then he pulls me in to wrap his arms around me in a tight hug.

“Jesus, you just saved my life, Goldie!”

Unsure what to make of this sudden form of affection, I hastily decide to hug him back. “No problem.”

“Gosh, this is embarrassing,” Blink shakes his head, still hugging me. “Normally I can see pretty well, but I never woulda seen that horse. I’s supposed to protect you, but you actually gotta protect me!”

Laugh’n out loud, I give him a raised look. “Let’s just make it to Medda’s alive, and then we can celebrate!”

Quickly, we both walk to Medda’s all the while giggling like a couple-a idiots. When we finally reach the esteemed pub, Blink opens the door like a gentleman and waves me in. Inside, the brightly-lit joint is buzz’n with noisy customers. I can hardly hear myself think, let alone what people’re saying! But thankfully Blink guides me to a booth in a corner, away from the noise. Soon a red-haired lady in a purple dress with a big feather hat rushes up and tugs Blink into a big hug.

“Blink! It’s been so long! How’ve you been? Has Jack kept you busy? Tell him he owes me a visit! Business has been so good thanks to you guys-!” She turns and notices me, and her eyes light up. “My goodness, Blink! Who is this beautiful young lady?”

A blush spreads across Blink’s face, but his shy smile is kinda cute. “Medda, this is Goldie. She’s from Brooklyn and don’t get out much, so I thought she’d like it here. Goldie,” He takes my hand. “This is Medda Larkson, owner of the place. She’s basically every ‘Hattan member’s adopted modda.”

“Indeed I am!” Medda grins and gestures to our booth. “Sit, sit! I’ll have George bring food! Goldie, I hope you have a wonderful evening and, if I might be so bold to say, enjoy every minute with this handsome man!” She gives Blink a wink. “He’s a real charmer!” With that she goes off to the kitchen, leaving both Blink ‘nd me in an awkward mess.

“Can you hear ok?” Blink asks across from me as we sit down.

I nod. “Think so.” Then I give him an evil grin. “Can you see ok?”

Blink rolls his eye. “Haha, very funny. I donno…” He pretends to cluelessly look around. “Might gotta have a cute goil save me again!” He dramatically put a hand on his head.

I stifle a laugh. “Gotta say, you ‘Hattan fellas are much more fun than our Brooklyn guys.”

He gives me a surprised look. “Really? Huh. So I guess you’d prefer them mature, stoned-faced Brooklyn boys than us rowdy ‘Hattans.”

I smile and go to hold Blink’s hand, which makes him jump a bit. “But you listen, Blink. You actually care whedda or not I care hear. All my life I’ve just been used as someone for people to rant to, and once I thought what's the point of me trying to talk when everyone just says hi and then goes away? But you care enough to make sure I can hear what you’ve got to say.”

At foist Kid Blink don’t say anyth’n, but then whispers someth’n I can’t make out.

I lean in to hear. “What?”

“Louis Balletti.”

“What?” I squint, wondering if I heard him right.

“Technically my name’s Louis Balletti. I haven’t gone by that in years, but… If you want to, you can call me Louis.”

I go to respond but then a chef comes out with a giant platter of food, followed by a pitcher of wadda and a vase of flowers. After look’n at all the food I nearly collapse.

“Jeez. This is too much! I’ve never seen this much food!” Blink gawkes.

“Louis,” I say, testing the name out. Blink’s eye widens and he looks up with a bewildered gaze.

“I like how you say it.”

“Thank you.” I take his hand again.

He frowns. “For what?”

I smile and look over at his sweet face. “For everything. For bringing me here, for trusting me with your name, for making a half-deaf Brooklyn goil feel special.”

Blink gets a mushy look on his face and leans in closer. “You’re welcome, Goldie. Kinda owed it to you anyway, see’n as you saved my life ‘nd all. And, if Spot doesn’t hate me after tonight, would you wanna go out again sometime?”

I answer by lean’n in to press a soft kiss to Blink’s cheek, which gets me an astounded look. “If Spot hates you after tonight, I quit.”

Blink brings a hand up to cup my face. “What if I be your ears, and you be my eyes?”

Now I use my hands to bring Blink’s face closer and kiss him full-on the lips, a deep and passionate kiss that makes every noise drown out. Blink slowly gets up to maneuver around to sit next to me, and we lean over to lay down on the cushion. Everyone around is too busy and drunk to notice, aside from Medda who gets a giddy look on her face. We lay there for what seems like eternity. Blink peppers kisses all over my face, while I take his eyepatch off and massage his head.

“If this is what luv feels like, I don’t want it to stop,” I whisper as the rowdy swarm of people muffles out all sound until I can only hear my throbbing heartbeat.

[furmity]

[George Hand Right, The Binding of Fenrir appeared in Hamilton Wright Mabie, Norse Stories Retold from the Eddas (Dodd Mead,1908).

Law degree part 3: Tyr  ᛏ

As a heathen with the ambition of earning a law degree, I am naturally a devotee of Tyr. I'd been aware of him before, but only started reading about his myths and worship while applying for university.

I was immensely drawn to the myth of his missing hand. The idea of self- sacrifice in lawgivers really left an impression on me. The resignation of “this has to be done and it must be me“. Honour and oath- making can be over- emphasised in heathenry, I don’t look on him as “the first oath- breaker” or any of that. This myth reminds us of the need for deception when we can protect ourselves and others. Honesty is akin to obeying the law: it’s the right thing until it’s the wrong thing, they have their reasons and limits. Tyr knows the difference.

So I introduced myself and volunteered to be a tool of his will. His shrine was on my desk. I prayed a novena in the lead up to my first semester, offering single malt whiskey. He was with me as I watched my first lecture. I’d give thanks for evidence that I was learning and laid good grades at his feet. His candle burned while I studied for exams. I dedicated last year’s Lent to him, but prayer cycles generally followed the academic calendar.

My UPG impressions are of a very serious individual who listens quietly and holds you accountable. I believe Tyr stands for democracy and local government. I'm all for strategic lawbreaking where obeying the law is wrong, and malicious compliance is a tool for change. Know the law to change the law. This stance feels right around Tyr, to me.

Tyr’s martial aspect is not something I really get into. I painted a Tiwaz icon on fabric patterned with medieval banners, saddled knights, and archers- but I’m a pacifist thank you so much. I’d like international law to really do something about keeping the peace and rounding up war criminals. Surely a lawgiving war god is the one to pray to for peace. He’s a war god who disabled himself! He nips problems in the bud. I should lean into that more: Please may diplomacy prevail, make Putin rot. Please may Australia always remain friendly with China, for the sake of Chinese- Australians above all.

At the beginning of last year I was absorbed by Lynne Kelly’s memory palace work (introduced by my dad, dammit, see part 2). I highly recommend her book Memory Craft and there are some good interviews with ABC. The various techniques are as useful for students as they are for remembering names and lists. My law notes were transformed into illuminated manuscripts on her instruction, and held up to Tyr. There’s so much law now that no one can remember it all, but I honour the oral lawgivers of old. I would really like to develop a devotional chaplet to him which works as a memory palace for law. Rosaries are mnemonic devices after all.

As a cultural Christian, my sky god of justice slots neatly into the mental space of a judging heavenly father. I recognise that may put certain people off. My moniker of “heretical heathen” has as much to do with being unbaptised in a Christian culture as it does with Norse gods. My pagan practice is synchretised with Christianity and I've noticed Tyr resists this. While I may dedicate a Christian period of sacrifice to him, divination tells me not to conflate him with Jehovah or Christ. The common law is very Christian and I don’t think that sits well with him. I respect that.

Just before my first year began, my sister stick- poked Tiwaz into my skin (I know, I know [1], I could well have chosen a hand), which I consecrated to my patron. Rather than waiting until I’d accomplished my goal, I did it to sort of bind myself to the path. I knew the degree was going to be difficult and unlike anything I’d done before... I didn’t want to drop out. Since I have dropped out and will not be studying this year, well, the tattoo seems to catch my eye a lot.

Of the many reasons I left, an important one was my ability to do the thing justice. It would surely not please my patron if I slid through like “Ps get degrees”. They do, but will you know your stuff? When I had to retake an exam I didn’t beg to get through, but asked for the opportunity to prove I know this. I didn’t pray to Tyr when I made my decision to leave (I didn’t pray to anything). I don’t seek his forgiveness, but I am sheepish about approaching him. I haven’t lit his candle in six months but his icon remains on the altar.

I have now decided to resume study next year... or part time second semester? I feel it is time to speak to the One- Handed and decide what I’m about. “I want a law degree”, I’d said. I got lost in the idea of prestige received for being a lawyer. I know I will be better placed with an ombudsman (one of few Scandinavian legal ideas we use here), a government department, or a union. I kind of toy with the idea of only doing pro bono legal work for activist groups. No small inspiration for studying law was hearing that organisations like the Satanic Temple (no, I’ don’t endorse) have in- house lawyers. There’s a niche somewhere for me, where I can be most useful and satisfied.

I want to read a couple of textbooks cover to cover this year, work on the manuscripts, get my base knowledge really solid. Program them into that chaplet.

Yes, it’s time for a blót.

[1] No frith with fascists! In re Tiwaz:

As you can see, these abominations don’t understand runes much anyway.

[lovemesomesurveys]

[joybucket @ bzoink]

What song do you want played at your wedding? 💒   I have no idea, it’s not something I’ve thought about. I can’t even envision myself getting married. 

List up to three things you own that have fringe on them.   I don’t think I own anything with fringe. 

What is one thing you've been waiting patiently for for quite some time?   Well, I’m very impatient so I’ve been impatiently waiting to get better. It has been several years, so I think I’m justified in this case.

When was the last time you sat in front of a bonfire? 🔥🪵   It’s been a long time.

If you could meet any American Idol contestant (from any season), which one would you choose to meet? 🎤   Hmm, I’d say Kelly Clarkson, David Archuleta, or Adam Lambert. 

If you could meet any American Idol judge (from any season), which one would you choose to meet?   I guess Paula Abdul. 

If you had to choose between competing on American Idol or on Fear Factor, which one would you choose, and why?   Most definitely neither. I have zero singing talent and I’m not going to eat bugs or any other disgusting thing or do something scary. 

Which name do you like best for a girl: Harmony or Harvest?   Harvest. I love the name Autumn and I think Harvest is pretty, too. 

What is your favorite type of oil?   Olive oil and sandwich oil. Have you ever been anointed with oil?   No.

Which do you like better: the smell of old books, or the smell of new books? I loveee the smell of old books.   

Which smell do you like better: the smell of old books, or the smell of gasoline? 📚 ⛽️   I like the smell of gasoline as well, but the smell of old books still wins.

When was the last time you had a deep conversation with someone?   My mom and I have those type of conversations quite often. 

When was the last time you played with sparklers? 🥢💥   I have no idea.

What are three of the most painful things you have ever stepped on?   Well, nothing since I’m a paraplegic and in a wheelchair. 

What is something you have recently realized?   I don’t know. There’s a lot I’ve realized for a long time and things continue to happen that only further support the realizations. What I do about them is the problem.

If you could study abroad for a year in a foreign country, which country do you think you would choose, and why?   I wouldn’t do that. I’m sure it would be an amazing experience, but I wouldn’t feel comfortable or safe doing that alone. 

What are three little things in life that you enjoy?   Books, coffee, Reese’s. 

If applicable, what song are you listening to right now?   I’m not.

When was the last time you wore your hair up in a bun?   Yesterday. My hair is now just barely long enough to put it up in a little bun, although strands of hair fall out in the back cause my hair is still so short. 

If you could choose three US states to visit, which three states would you pick? Hawaii, New York, and Alaska. 

Do you think you express yourself better in writing or out loud?   >> I definitely express myself better in writing because I have the space and time to get my words together. this does not mean I always succeed in expressing myself well even in writing, because words are a fuck <<< I’d definitely say the same thing. It’s also the fact I’m not directly talking to someone, so even if someone reads my writing, I’m not talking face to face. If I sound like a rambling idiot, I don’t know they think that. Cause I definitely can ramble on and not always make sense in my writing, but it’s okay. I feel much more comfortable trying to express myself and letting my thoughts out in the written form than verbally. 

What's the most amazing miracle you've ever witnessed? ✨   Life-threatening situations I had last year in the hospital that I miraculously, by the grace of God, survived. I’ve also witnessed His healing with things that once looked so hopeless without a good chance at all in healing. 

Do you enjoy being home alone?   I like having some time alone, but I like spending time with my brother and my mom. Or even if they’re in other rooms but they’re still here. For some reason I’ve been really feeling lonely lately. I think I have some dependency issues. 

What is the most magical thing you've ever experienced? ✨   >> how is this different from the question above the last question in any meaningful way <<< Yeah, this is like the miracle question. Well, except that I don’t believe in magic so I don’t attribute the miracles I’ve experience to that, I completely give credit to God. 

What was the last hot beverage you drank? ☕️   Coffee. 

What is your favorite season?   I love fall and winter. 

Do you think your hair looks better curly or straight?   I like it wavy or straight. 

Have you ever donated blood? 🩸   No.

Would you rather eat at the Hard Rock Cafe or the Rainforest Cafe?   I’ve only been to the Rainforest Cafe, which was cool but it’s definitely for the experience as I wasn’t that impressed with the food. I think that’s the whole thing, though with places with like that. I’d like to go to the Hard Rock Cafe, but it’s probably a similar experience. 

Are you a good swimmer? 🩱     >> I can't swim. <<<

Would you rather attend a yoga class or a Zumba class?   Neither.

Have you written anything down today? ✍️   Not handwritten, but I’ve done a lot of typing both on here and on my phone. 

What color is your camera case (if you have one)?   My camera is my phone, which has a clear case on it with Stranger Things stickers I put on there. The stickers are peeling off, though, and it looks all ugly right now so I need to get a new case. 

What do you consider ideal weather for spring?   I like rainy weather, but here our spring tends to be warm and  a little summer-y, which I don’t like. It reminds me that summer is right around the corner and our summers are miserably hot.

Have you experienced anything supernatural today? ✨   No.

What are three things you like that start with the same letter as your middle name?   I’m not sharing my middle name initial. Nice try.

What year did you join Facebook?   Back in 2008. Possibly late 2007.

Which do you use more: Facebook or Instagram?   Facebook. I barely use that anymore, though. I don’t spend much time on it. 

Would you say you've had a good week so far?   No.

What are three of your favorite ways to enjoy spring? 🌸   I don’t do anything.

Do you own a pair of pink pants? I have a pair of pink Barbie sweatpants.