#i know i’ve changed the ‘rating’ like three times i’m trYing to figure out where it fits

[vmbrq]

suggestive

i was doing some thinking about scenes from scream vi and i just realized that public transportation, namely subways and buses, would be the place to tease virgin, ghostface ethan. it’d be so crowded and your body would sway back and forth with the momentum, of course you’d end up pressed against him. you’d be able to feel the way his body would tense against your back and the way his breath would hitch when he feels your ass nudge against his crotch. he’d automatically know this isn’t good; he’s never been stellar at concealing his feelings for you.

in his mind, he considers himself fortunate that you had yet to catch on to all the little methods he’d use to disguise his arousal, such as covering his lap with a pillow and faking sudden urges to use the bathroom. but now, you’ve lodged him between a rock and a hard place, and he can’t allow himself to slip up now—not when he’s just earned your trust enough to be allowed such close proximity. he tries to think of anything else—skin peeling off bones, vomit, a severed penis—but it all proves to be for naught, and any attempts to wiggle further into the corner to escape are only nullified by the lack of space.

you feel so soft against him, every shift of your head or stance flooding his senses with the fragrances lacing your hair and attire. his face is warm, paranoia festering in his chest as he struggles to prevent the manifestation of the desire already stirring to life between his legs. you'd surely hate him—be disgusted with him if you discovered how perverted he really was. but, you already knew. you knew very well. you just wish he knew that his feelings were reciprocated.

his head knocks back against the wall, and he tries to occupy himself with squinting at all the cracks and peels of paint on the ceiling. but you insist on interrupting his peace again, this time closing the remaining distance by nonchalantly leaning your back against his chest and consequently increasing the pressure on his cock. now, he can’t just ignore you. it would be impossible. when you decide to tempt him with an experimental grind of your ass against him and a teasing smile, his next inhale is quiet yet just sharp enough for you to detect, and you jolt in surprise when a shrill clang abruptly resounds overhead—the collision of the silver rings adorning his fingers with the metal support bar above you as he grips it tightly to stabilize himself.

his free hand clamps down on your hip, strong fingers cold to the touch and bearing an unspoken command to stop moving. suddenly, it’s as if he has you caged in, trapped between him and the unsuspecting woman in front of you. he leans forward, holding you firmly in place while he curls over your shoulder. his gaze is heated as it drills into the back of your head, the weight of it pinning you to your spot. it’s as if you can feel him bearing down on you, his presence overriding your own, swallowing you up. he’s behind you, above you—you shiver when his hand abandons its place at your hip and instead slides across your stomach to splay over your lower abdomen.

he’s everywhere.

[chlorinecake]

What are your thoughts on gang bang?

My sincere thoughts on it? Honestly can’t say that I’m a fan. However, I’ll take this ask as an opportunity to write something ~different~ for my community of horny engenes !!

cw swearing, unprotected sex, m. & f. oral (both giving and receiving), slight exhibitionism, boob play, reader gets fucked by the hyung line, not proofread wc 1.3k

So by now we’re all pretty familiar with enhypen’s infamous resort episode, right?

Imagine Lee Heeseung, one of the richest, most attractive guys at your university inviting you to a pool party held at his condo over the weekend.

You wore an ordinary emerald green two piece bikini with a thin shawl tied around your waist, sitting at the poolside while your eyes merely glazed the book you brought with you. It was supposed to act as headphones to an introverted gym bro, but God knows you weren’t AT ALL interested in reading anymore.

Too distracted by the bulge fest Heeseung and his three equally hot friends were granting you with, the only thing on your mind was how you were gonna fuck at least one of them before the night was out.

Luckily, the pool had already started to clear out within an hour, so you had the perfect chance to make your move with Heeseung's groupies out of the way.

Abandoning your now damp book and shawl, you joined the four boys in the pool, the view of your perky tits and ass against the underwater lights thoroughly enthralling their attention.

“Hey, stranger. It's about time you got your nose out of that book," Jake chuckled, making a spot for you to squeeze in between him and Heeseung in the water, "I’m surprised a girl like you even swung by tonight."

“Don’t be," you said, looking him dead in the eye, "I’m not all books and brains like you might think I am.”

“Great, so why don’t you enlighten us?" Heeseung offered, trying to out-intimidate you, "I’ve invited you to my parties in the past, but you never showed. Why change that tonight?”

You opted for a more humorous response to his cheeky question.

“Because, you’ve obviously been keeping track of my attendance records… I wouldn’t want to risk my midterm grade like that,” you pouted playfully, kicking your feet in the water which only drew their attention back to your body.

Dogs, you thought to yourself. They weren’t even trying to hide how thirsty they were.

“No worries… Heeseung lost the backbone to give cute girl's honest ratings a while ago,” Sunghoon poked, earning a circle of laughter from the inside joke he'd just told.

“Yeah, buddy. You’ve seriously lowered your standards over the years,” Jake pitched in, “prudes like her don’t know how to have a good time, so just quit with your efforts.”

You scoffed at his sly remark, Heeseung splashing water at Jake’s face in both your defense.

"Hmm," you began, speaking more boldly, "last time I checked, prudes are easy targets... I figured guys like you couldn't handle when girls play hard to get anyways."

“That’s sweet and everything, but I'm afraid you've misjudged us," Jay interjected, "guys like ourselves actually enjoy a challenge once in a while... even when the prize is amateur at best.”

“Pfft,” you amused, humored by how much they underestimated the lengths you'd go to for a good fuck, even if you made a fool of yourself while doing so. You played along, planning to make use of your dirty mouth to rile them up even more.

"Look, now you've made her mad," Heeseung sighed at Jay who only shook his head in response.

"Not mad, but extremely horny, yes… and when I'm in the mood, I prefer to skip the mind games and just use my words," you said with a seductive voice, looking them all dangerously in the eyes, "If any of you perverts wanna put your boner's to good use before the night is out, you know where to find me."

The look on their faces was a mix of shock, offense, and desire, their eyes following the trail of water your feet left behind as you made your way outside of Heeseung's pool and into his condo.

“What the fuck is her deal,” Sunghoon asked rhetorically, being the first of the bunch to make his way out of the pool, following behind you.

Jake contemplated with himself before calling out to Sunghoon, "Aye, wait up," nearly slipping on his ass as he got out of the pool.

"Yeahhh, I'm not sure if she wants all of us to join her," Jay pitched in, watching as Heeseung slowly made his way to the pool staircase.

"How dense can you be, bro? The girl's obviously a raging slut. She's practically begging to have all her hole's filled tonight," Heeseung huffed, shaking the water from his hair before dumbly following your water trail as if hypnotized.

Jay was putting up a front, but he was equally, if not even more eager to get off one way or another.

Introducing your fivesome location of choice: Heeseung's indoor sauna.

Some debating time took place before you guys actually started anything, discussing how they planned to take turns fucking you before finally agreeing on going at it in groups of two.

As expected, each of the four boys had their own way of toying with you.

Heeseung took the lead, fucking up into you as you bounced on his cock, your hands desperately clinging onto his shoulders as if fearful that the force of his thrusts would make you fall.

“Fuck,” he hissed, relishing in the sensation of your slimy walls clenching around him.

The surrounding boys palmed themselves while they awaited their turn, some of them even pulling out their phones to record the filthy scene.

Jay, being one of the more impatient ones, took it upon himself to wrap your hand around his dick, guiding your movements with one hand while he massaged your tits with the other. “Since Heeseung here forgot we’re supposed to be sharing,” he groaned, melting into the warmth of your grip.

After the two eldest boys had their fun, Jake and Sunghoon helped themselves to you next.

It caught you off guard when Jake kissed you, his tongue entering your mouth as he explored your folds with his free hand, testing just how eager you were for more.

You were eventually put on all fours, Sunghoon forcing your wobbly legs open as he chuckled in your ear, “don’t tell me you’re already getting tired,” he smirked, landing a harsh smack against your pulsing heat.

Jake gripped your hips, the hot pressure of his cock swirling at your entrance before he finally rammed himself all the way in, delighting you with a feeling of fullness. “So tight,” he whinced, slowly grinding into your hole before picking up the pace.

Sunghoon only gave Jake so much fun time before tapping in, telling Jake to pull out and just hold himself so he could finally have a go.

Although you were still on all fours, Sunghoon was much rougher with you than Jake was, leaning down to graze your shoulder with his fangs while his free hand gripped at your throat.

Your eyes rolled to the back of your head as he rutted into you from behind, smacking your ass just to hear you whine before you both finally climaxed.

"Alright, show off," Jay teased, guiding your tired body into the missionary position, propping you up on your elbows so Heeseung could have full access to mouth.

You’re sure Jay's goal was to make you squirt just from how aggressively he fingered your cunt, diving down to leave rough kitten licks against your puffy clit as he whispered against your heat, “So fucking pretty for us.”

Meanwhile, you watched Heeseung’s eyes flutter as you slowly inched your lips down his length, delicate hands caressing your cheeks as if petting you before forcing your head down a little further. He trembled at the feeling of your throat tightening around him, “Fuck, you feel so good," he nearly whimpered, chest heaving in harmony with each bob of your head.

Despite your mouth being stuffed, broken moans escaped your lips as Jay eased you toward your third orgasm of the night, your body squirming beneath him as your shiny release coated his lips and chin, adding to the foul sounds echoing within the sauna space.

And with that, your steamy night went on for what felt like hours, the four horny boys chasing their highs and passing you around like the main course at a holiday dinner party.

All of this action was definitely not on par with how you initially planned to spend your weekend night, but it wasn't something you had a problem with, either.

a/n: I felt tempted to include the entire enha legal line in this drabble… I’m sorry, but there ain’t no way you’d be able to process all that dick at once, BYE-

No tags bc this one sucks . I literally might randomly delete this one day… — feel free to check out more fun reads like this on my enhypen bookshelf !!

[shina913]

On Tilt, Part 1 | KNJ

On Tilt, Part 1 Definition: a poker term for a state of mental or emotional confusion or frustration in which a player adopts a suboptimal strategy, usually resulting in the player becoming overly aggressive.

On Tilt Masterlist

Pairing: Namjoon x Fem!Reader

Rating: M 🔞; NSFW

Genre: idol!AU; angst; fluff; smut

Warnings: unhealthy relationship dynamic; cussing; explicit sexual conversations; dirty talk; clit play; heavy petting; oral sex (F-receiving); intercourse; orgasm denial; fingering; masturbation (mutual); exhibitionism; stamina!; multiple orgasms; pining; unrequited love; miscommunication

Word count: 4.5K words

Summary: You’ve said time and time again that you wouldn’t lose yourself to him. You were in control now. You were going to make better choices. For a minute there, you were able to keep up with it. It wasn’t ‘til Namjoon’s extended break that you found yourself falling into old habits. Will you ever learn to quit Kim Namjoon?

A/N: First off—boop! Title change! This was going to be called something else but decided to switch it up last-minute. I've had this sitting in my WIPs for a while. So long that ago that this was was actually drafted before the first hiatus announcement in June. This is the first time I am writing an idol!AU (please be kind)! I’m not sure how many chapters this will be yet…could be two, could be three. For now, please enjoy and let me know what you think! Now, excuse me while I get side-eyed by my WIPs.

You are jolted awake by your phone blaring loudly. What time was it? It was still dark out.

“Hello?” You croaked out drowsily–your eyelids fighting to stay closed.

“Hey.” You’d recognize that rich baritone anywhere.

“Uh…hi.” Your eyes flickered, pulling the phone away from your ear to figure out what time it was. Too early. 

“Remember that dark blue strappy dress that you had?”

“W-what?” You responded after a beat once your brain lurched forward. “Where are you?”

“Los Angeles. Just chillin’ at the hotel,” he rasped. “Were you sleeping?”

“I was,” you answer dryly.

He chuckled into the phone. “You never used to need that much sleep.”

“Well…I’ve changed. And you have, too,” you point out while rubbing your eye, mid-yawn. “We’ve already had this discussion.”

“I know, I know,” he relents, effectively dropping that subject. You fall silent on the other line. A few beats later, he asks, “Are you alone?”

You scoffed. “Namjoon, who else would I be with?”

He laughed from deep within his chest and it tickled your ear. “So–can we keep talking about that dress?”

After rolling your eyes, you try to wrack your brain for any memories of whichever dress he was referring to. You owned so many over the years. “I don’t know…I’m kind of drawing a blank–”

“Whenever I pushed one strap off, the other would fall, too.”

As soon as he said it, that certainly narrowed it down. You zero-in on the dress and the memories came rushing back, hitting you like a tidal wave. You hummed at the nostalgia. The dress used to be one of your favorites–and clearly, it was his too.

“Now I remember.” It was a navy-blue, silky, cowl-neckline dress with spaghetti straps. It had an asymmetrical hemline–the longest falling right above your ankle but it had a pretty high slit that went up your thigh. If you picked your feet up too high while climbing some stairs, people would get an eyeful. Luckily, back then, you and Namjoon always took elevators. Except that one time when you both snuck into the emergency exit where you had a little private moment by the stairs.

You blink the memory away. “That was a nice dress,” you say leisurely, trying to fight off the drowsiness. Maybe he wasn’t even thinking about that scandalous-looking slit…or that night by the steps. 

“And I also remember that it had that sexy slit that went all the way up your left thigh…” he drawled. “That came in handy that one time by the steps? You know, the emergency exit?”

Fuck. He could read minds now, too? You were wide awake now. “Uh huh…” you drew out while your eyebrows furrowed. What was he up to?

“Mmm…you had great legs.”

You sat up on your bed. “‘Have’.”

“Sorry, say that again?”

“I have great legs. Present tense,” you corrected.

He gave another deep, throaty laugh. “I will not object to that. I love your legs. I love having them wrapped around my neck—like that time I came home to you after that show?”

Your mouth went dry. That was the night he made you cum so hard that you bit him so deep on his shoulder that you drew blood.

“Joon…” you rasped. 

******

“So, did either of you do anything fun last night,” Lani asked while she perused the brunch menu. You’re not sure why since she ordered the same thing every time.

“Happy hour with a couple of coworkers. We went to a bar that had an indoor bocce ball court. I’d never been but it was pretty chill. Also, everyone should try playing drunk bocce ball,” Jia giggled.

“What about you, YN?”

“Oh, you know—not much. I had a quiet night, after work; turned in early and then…had- accidental-phone-sex-with-Namjoon,” you say in rapid-fire succession.

“Sorry, w-what?” Jia chokes out as her eyes bulged out of their sockets. But before she gets another word out the server stops at your table to take your order.

After they walk away, Jia picks up on your last comment. “Now hold on a second–you can’t just drop ‘Namjoon’ and ‘phone sex’ in the same sentence and expect us to just take it in stride!”

“I didn’t know that you and Namjoon were into phone sex,” Lani says, waggling her eyebrows teasingly as she turned in her seat to face you.

“We weren’t. But their break is coming up and he’s been calling me for the past couple weeks–”

Jia sighed and admonished you. “YN, you shouldn’t be having phone sex with your ex.”

“Okay well, let me correct that–it was technically not phone sex but more of a…a trip down memory lane,” you clarified. “Also, he’s not my ex. We never really defined—whatever this is. So, how can you be ‘ex-whatever’ if you never really ‘were’ in the first place?”

“Fucking without labels. I like it!” Lani winked at you.

“What-everrr,” Jia says, annoyed. “He’s in and out of the country. When he’s here, he’s usually in the studio. You guys barely see each other but as soon as he calls, you come running.”

“Excuse me but I do not come running, Jia,” you argued.

“You just come,” Lani snorted.

You give Lani a deadpan look before turning to Jia again. “For real, though. I think that I’ve actually gotten better with this whole Namjoon business! Would it kill you to give me a little credit?”

Jia softens her expression at you. “Sorry, YN. It’s just that I really care about you and…when he left for that one tour then went straight back into recording the new album without seeing you–I saw how much it tore you apart." She reaches across the table to rest her on yours. "There are other guys out there. Other guys who can be present…who can love you and argue with you, in person. None of this complicated idol-bullshit.”

You tried. You really did. You put yourself out there, met other people…none of them lasted. Namjoon was always there for you. And you were there for him. You were familiar with each other. Neither of you needed a manual to navigate each other. 

With Namjoon, it was just like stepping into that navy-blue dress. Easy, comfortable…and you always felt sexy.

It was just too much work dating–trying to get to know someone new and getting used to them. You had grown too impatient for that.

Or maybe you just had to admit that you didn’t want to find someone new…because all you really wanted was him.

******

After playing the last night of the band’s stadium tour, Namjoon picks you up from your place so you could head on over to another hotel, only to switch cars, to drive off to another hotel. It was like a shell game. He needed to play it safe because he never knew who’d be watching or following him. It all came with the territory.

It was just before midnight. You paused before sliding into the backseat next to him. “I’ll need you to take me back home tonight.”

Namjoon cocked his head to the side, looking slightly disappointed. “You won’t stay the night with me?”

You paused, leaning on the open car door–fully intent on standing your ground.

“I’d really like you to stay,” he added with a flash of his dimple.

The truth was, you really wanted to. And once, back in the day, you would drop whatever you were doing whenever he was back in town for his visits until you ended up resenting him for it. You may not have learned to stay away from him, but you’d picked up a thing or two about having a healthier relationship–more for your sanity. “Look, let’s just keep things simple, okay?”

His chest lifted and fell on a deep breath. “As you wish.” With that, you climbed into the backseat of the SUV with him, shutting the passenger door.

“Can I schedule time for you to spend with me?” He asks softly.

You sat so close to each other, thighs and elbows pressed together…but there was an unspoken distance between you. Even though you enforced it, you still wished it didn’t have to be there.

“When?” You ask him with a hint of exasperation.

“I was hoping for one more night this week and all of next weekend for sure.” They were on an extended break. The other guys would disperse and travel back to their own hometowns after a publicly-announced hiatus by the record label. He’s decided to spend the next three weeks in your area.

You nodded then glanced sideways out the window. He vaguely mentions that it was another 10 minute drive to the next hotel–giving you time to think about how the rest of tonight could go. More sex? More Namjoon? You craved both–more than you’d like to admit…and it would’ve been much nicer without so many doubts and reservations.

You missed how carefree you both used to be. When you first met, there was no sense of time or what day it was. You’d go whenever and wherever you pleased. His schedule was packed but he always, always made time for you.

Sometimes, he’d go as far as clear out a whole place for both of you. Once or twice, he paid to access some museums after-hours. You’d stare at sculptures and paintings. He’d wax poetic about each piece while you hung on to every word he said. Afterwards, he’d take you back to the dorms and fuck you into the morning.

And then…the schedules just got more complicated. International attention heightened. Next thing you knew, he was on planes more often than he was on your bed.

“Listen,” he began, “You should know this is hard for me, too.”

“At least you have a clue about what’s going on,” you argued softly, turning away from him to look out the window while the car zoomed past your quiet neighborhood and into the city.

The announcement of the extended break was a surprise to you but he’d vaguely hinted at it several times during one of your clandestine meetings. What he hasn’t disclosed were his plans during this break.

Namjoon turned in his seat and reached for you, catching you by the nape and pulling you in. You closed your eyes, anticipating the moment when his parted lips would touch yours. His tongue caressed the curve of your mouth…the feeling had you leaning closer for more.

“Can we worry about the rest on a different day? I just want tonight to be about…us.”

Us.

Even though you went months without seeing or talking to each other, he always spoke of you collectively–never individually…never apart.

You nodded and gave him a small smile. The subtle gesture lit a flame. You stared at each other in the dark–only catching flickers of your features as you passed the staggered illumination of dim street lamps and tunnel lights. You saw him moisten his lips with his tongue and in a matter of seconds–the flame had escalated into a raging fire.

“Always so sweet,” he murmurs while you feel his finger brush the shell of your ear. The darkness combined with his deep, silky voice sends a shiver down your spine. “I’m going to spread you across my bed and lick you from head to toe.”

You hummed. “You’re good at that.” You were needy in an instant.

He pulled back, as if to look away, then surged forward again, catching your lips in a heated, hungry kiss. His mouth devoured yours, his tongue stroking, exploring. You were just as greedy for him, your hand sliding into his hair, seizing the roots while you had your fill of him. He cupped your breast in his hand, massaging it, his thumb and forefinger capturing your aching nipple and tugging rhythmically. You moaned, turned on to the point of no return.

“Fuck, YN,” he groaned, releasing you and falling back against the seat. “I want you. Right here. Now.”

Truth be told, you were incredibly tempted to demand that he raise the partition so you could climb him right then.

“Tell your man to drive faster,” you said in a rush as you pressed your thighs together–as if that would stop your juices from flowing.

He threw his head back, his laugh booming through his chest. Moments later, he turned his head, leaning against the headrest to look at you. “Fine. But when we get to bed, I’m taking it real slow.”

******

And boy, did he take it really slow..

“Namjooooon,” you dragged out. Fisting at the sheets, your body arched off the mattress, lifting yourself greedily to the torture of his mouth. You’d almost forgotten what he could do to you, how he could penetrate your skin to get into the very heart of you.

He held you pinned at the thighs, his mouth on your throbbing center, his tongue licking leisurely. The slow rhythmic strokes over your clit had you gasping. The need for an orgasm was so fierce, you were drenched in sweat, legs practically burning from the strain while he held you wide open.

“My god, your tongue…” you whined.

“Yeah? Did you miss it while I was gone?” He gives your sopping core a quick flick of his tongue.

“Ahhh! Yes…Oh my god, yes,” you groaned.

He slowly pushed two fingers into you, making you gasp softly. After a few slow pumps, he paused to turn his wrist so his palm was facing upwards. His thumb was now circling around your clit while his two other fingers, still buried in you, curled and stroked at the bundle of sensitive nerves.

The sensation made your whole body clench tightly–it won’t be long now before you’d start to fall apart.

“Yeah? Did you touch yourself?”

“Yes,” you distractedly admitted. Your mind, clearly elsewhere while he dangled you over the precipice of your climax.

And then you felt empty. Having withdrawn his hand, you saw him sitting up, gazing down at you. “Show me?”

“Show you what?” You asked, trying to regain focus.

“Show me how you touch yourself.”

You roll your eyes at him. “You’ve seen me touch myself.” You referred to previous nights when you’d call each other over video while he was away. “Now come on, please,” you begged. “Make me cum,” you almost whine.

“No, I want to see it in person,” he says.

“But you’re right here, how come I need to do it?” you argued. Any longer and you’d lose your lady-boner and call it a night.

“I’ll do it with you,” he answers. With a flash of his dimple, he sat back on his heels, dropping his hand to fist his cock.

Your eyebrows quirk, suddenly intrigued. You’d never touched yourself while he was in the same room with you. You shifted restlessly, your attention fixed on his long, nimble fingers.

“Come on,” he coaxes you while he stroked himself, squeezing right when he reached the tip, bringing a flush to his face.

Your core began to ache at the sight. Your fingers move of their own volition, sliding between your legs to rub your aching bud.

“Fuck, this looks so much hotter in person.” He was watching you closely, his gaze was hot and hungry. His tongue slid slowly along his lips, as if he was tasting you. When his teeth caught the fullest curve of his lower lip, you could have sworn you felt it.

You knew that look well. And you knew what came after it.

******

He thrusted hard, sinking deep in one lunge, wrenching a cry from you as you fell hard into orgasm. Neck arched and eyes squeezed shut, you laid on the bed as the pleasure pulsed through you, your core tightening around his cock as he kept his rhythmic ministrations.

He groaned, grabbing fistfuls of the sheets and pumping himself into you. The climax grew once more, spurred by the steady lunges of his hips...the feel of his cock fucking into you relentlessly.

You writhed helplessly, lost to him, desperately hanging on to the part of your soul that wanted to surrender. You gripped at the back of his broad shoulders tightly, your nails leaving marks and scratches at his repeated assault on you.

Namjoon’s lips were in your ear, his breath hot and needy as he growled after every thrust.

You felt the muscles flex as his body worked to give you another orgasm. You’d lost count after the second one. 

His teeth sank into your earlobe, groaning in pleasure while his abdomen contracted against your stomach, his sweat and yours mixing together.

“You won’t believe how much I thought about you this whole time,” he gasped. 

So he has thought about you. In what way? Thought about fucking you? Or thought about you just because? As much as you wanted to unpack that, you brush the thought aside. Right now, he was dicking you down real good–and that needed 100% of your attention.

“So g-good.” You swallowed past a dry throat.

He drove the point home with every thrust, fucking you so thoroughly you couldn’t think beyond the need to cum again.

Your body was not your own as he had come to fully possess your whole being.

Namjoon was the only one who could do this to you...make you mindless...drive you crazy. When you were in bed with him, you were his. Ready and willing to do whatever he wanted, to take whatever he chose to give you, knowing he would make you orgasm over and over...

You whined, feeling his grip tighten on you, every muscle on his body gathering as his own climax brewed.

You realized then that he was hanging onto you as desperately as you were to him, you felt that urgency in every breath, every touch. 

Your eyes stung with tears when your orgasm hit, sucking the air out of your lungs, causing spots in your eyes. A long, drawn out moan escaped from your mouth–a mix of pleasure and relief.

“Ah, baby.” He kissed you, absorbing the sound, slowing until he was just circling his hips, feeling every hard inch of him inside you. “I love that sound you make when you cum. It tells me how good I make you feel…how much you love me touching you…being inside you…”

How much you loved being serviced by him. How much you loved—

He rips the thoughts away from you when he takes your mouth, kissing you deeply. His hips circled again, making you feel every inch of him. The slow, purposeful stroking over your nerves kept you hot and on-edge.

“I missed you so much, YN,” he whispered into the kiss. “Did you miss me, too?” He asks in a soft, almost pleading tone.

When you didn’t reply, he brushed the sweat-slicked hair strands away from your face and searched for the answer in your eyes.

You stared back at him wordlessly, your jaw slackened while your core rippled along his length. His eyes clenched shut and his lips parted, his body tightening along with yours. “No, no. Not yet. I don’t want to cum yet.”

“Please..come on, Joon….” You were begging and didn’t care. You just wanted him to come. You wanted it more than your next breath.

“No. I’m not rushing this.” He reached behind him to grab your wrist, bringing your right arm up and over your head. His other hand pushed beneath your bottom, lifting you into a smooth, easy thrust. “Hmm...so good. So perfect for me. Always.”

You wanted to tease him with your own little naughty comeback, to play the game just as he was, but you couldn’t think of anything. You were at a loss for words.

“Stop thinking and just feel it…feel me,” he murmured, nibbling on the corner of your mouth, dragging his lips across your jawline. “Let me make you feel good, baby. That’s all I want. To make you feel good.”

Turning your head, you caught his lower lip with your teeth and let him.

******

“Tell me what you’re thinking.” His thumb brushed the corner of your brow and drifted down to your cheek, tucking stray strands behind your ear.

Your lips twisted wryly while you laid in bed, cocooned in him. You glanced up at him. “How sexy you are. It’s embarrassing how often I think about that. I need to get over it already.”

He cupped the back of your thigh and urged you tighter against him, teasing you with an expert roll of his hips. It was sickening how much he knew his way around your body. “As if I’d allow you to do that.”

You scoffed, pushing off him slightly. “Huh. ‘Allow me?’ A little cocky there, aren't we?” Deep down, heat slid through your bloodstream…your body becoming way too greedy for him.

“Don’t tell me you don’t prefer a fan who’s more starry-eyed and would easily drop their panties for you, Mr. Kim.”

He ignored your jab. “What I want,” he purred, cupping your jaw and rubbing your bottom lip with the pad of his thumb, “...Is you being too busy thinking about me to think about anyone else.”

You pulled in a slow and shaky breath. You were completely captivated by the smoldering look in his eyes, his sexy-as-hell voice, his body, and the mouthwatering scent of his skin. He was your drug, and there were no signs of you kicking the habit.

“Namjoon,” you breathed, completely entranced.

With a soft groan, he sealed his mouth over yours, stealing away thoughts of what time it was with a lush, deep kiss…a kiss that almost succeeded in distracting you from seeing the slightest hint of insecurity he’d just revealed.

You pushed your fingers into his hair to hold him still and kissed him back, your tongue sliding along his. 

His arms banded around you and tightened possessively. “I want to spend the weekend with you down by the coast—naked.”

He had a little known vacation property by the beach. There were suspicions from gossip sites but nobody could ever confirm. He had taken you there a few times. It had its own private beach access and was remote enough so nobody would randomly come snooping.

You giggled. “Sounds like every guy’s wet dream.” As big of a kick as you got out of Namjoon in a bespoke suit, you much preferred him stripped down.

“Is that all we’re going to do?” You wondered. “You want me laying there, all ready and splayed for you?”

He let out a deep, sexy chuckle. “We could go on a hike. Maybe swim? Watch the stars. We’ll have some food to eat…and then I’ll eat you out,” He traced vague shapes on your hip bone with his pointer finger, making you squirm.

“Haven’t you had your fill?” You ask him.

“Of you?” He laughed. “Can you fit the ocean into a cup?”

You scrunch your face in confusion. He was always good with his metaphors, which flowed easily into his lyrics.

“You and your damn hyperboles.” You remarked with a laugh.

“I don’t exaggerate. It’s just a fact,” he answers frankly. For a moment, your head floats up into the clouds again. You feel a light, warm fluttering within your chest.

“So–would you be okay with that plan? You, me–alone in a beach house…clothing completely optional?”

With a sigh, you acquiesced.

******

Lani eyed you as you slid onto a bar stool at her breakfast nook the next morning. She knew when she saw your makeup-free state, which betrayed the shower you’d taken just a half hour before. She quietly poured you a cup of coffee, sliding it towards you. She opens the fridge and puts the creamer next to you.

“I forgot how much I like Namjoon,” she said casually as she looked out her kitchen window, watching his black car with heavily tinted windows drive off.

You nodded while stirring in the creamer in your coffee. You liked Namjoon, too. Thing was, in his line of work, the way the band was just starting to hit their stride globally–it made things…painfully uncertain.

“You two gonna work it out or what?”

“I don’t know,” you say vaguely, taking a long sip of your coffee…as if it held the answers to all of your questions about him. “At least this time, I know the rules.”

“Okay so maybe I don’t like him so much anymore.” Lani poured herself another cup and took a sip and sighed. “I always had a feeling that he was in love with you,” she says unceremoniously.

“He’s in lust,” You countered dryly. “And…whatever, I can live with that. It’s the other stuff—the way he talks to me sometimes, as if there’s more. I keep running all of these scenarios in my head, about why he keeps coming back to me—that part is hard for me to deal with. It’s kind of a mind-fuck.”

“You know that I know some people who can knock some sense into him,” she deadpans as she peered at you above her coffee mug. 

You smiled. “I think it would be better if those people knocked some sense into me instead.”

“We can do that, too. It’ll be like a two-for-one deal.” She tapped her mug against yours. “But you’ve got plenty of sense. You know what you’re doing. You just wished you weren’t doing it,” she chuckled. “And he obviously doesn’t have a clue or else he wouldn’t risk letting you get away. He’ll never find anyone better, you know. Someone who knows him inside and out.”

You snorted at her. “Don’t get all sappy on me now, Leilani. I might have to kick your ass.” She laughed at the way you invoked her full name. You were only half-joking. In reality, you felt emotional and…attached. Sex with Namjoon did that.

“Fine, if you want to skip the sappy shit, let’s just eat. Get off your ass and help me make breakfast.”

With a groan, you slid off the bar stool. You weren’t much for cooking–more about eating. “Damn. Can we get back to being sappy instead?”

Before you round the counter to head into the kitchen, your phone pings. It was a text from Namjoon, saying that he just got a last-minute individual schedule and that next weekend might be up in the air.

You scoffed after you read it, and practically flung your phone against the counter, where it lands with a heavy clack, startling Lani. “You okay, babe?”

“Yeah,” you answer instantaneously, swallowing your irritation, hoping it would pass.

Did you really expect anything less? The company liked to keep them busy even with scheduled breaks. Just because he wasn’t traveling, did you actually think you’d get some quality time with him? It was easier said than done.

Lani stands there eyeing you suspiciously. But before she picks up on your sudden contemplative vibe, you distract her.

“What do you need help with? Do you want me to cut up stuff? Mix? Beat anything?”

She laughs and goes on asking you to take some scallions and eggs out of the fridge to make pajeon.

“Did you want anything else in it? Ham? Kimchi?” She asks you.

You sighed. “I’m cool with whatever,” you say, noncommittally.

She tells you to chop up the scallions, showing you the right way to position your fingers and hold the knife. You mimic her actions thinking that it wasn’t that difficult to learn.

Now, if only Namjoon were just as easy to figure out.

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[she-karev]

Lockdown (Japril Imagine)

Age Rating: 12+

Chapters: Three of Three

Fandom: Grey’s Anatomy

Ship: Jackson and April

Summary: Jackson and April talk about her split from Matthew and Jackson finally talks to her about Montana.

Words: 2468

March 18, 2020

April closes the door behind her after letting Jackson in who looks around the house that is cluttered with clothes, blankets and pillows. She picks up the mess knowing how Jackson detests things out of order.

“Harriet is asleep, she and I just got done playing hide and seek.” Jackson nods, “I know it’s messy.”

“I didn’t say anything.” Jackson defends, “Don’t worry about it my place is pretty messy especially since She-Karev moved in.”

April chuckles, “Please don’t do that, don’t be all weird nice with your voice an octave higher like you do with people at hotels or at the bank.”

Jackson looks at her surprised by this new fact about himself, “I have a weird bank voice?”

April smiles, “It’s making you nuts; you can just say it. There’s mess everywhere, I guess it can be a symbol for the world right now and I am just following. There’s pillows all over the place.”

“You know I have a strong belief that throw pillows are useless and stupid. I was also taken with your house I don’t think I’ve even actually been here like in person.”

April raises an eyebrow at that strange analysis, “Really?”

“Yeah I guess it’s because we always do the drop offs at my place or the hospital. It’s nice it’s cozy I like it. I especially like the exposed brick. I guess it’s an idyllic family home for you and Matthew and Harriet and Ruby it’s very…idyllic.”

“You said idyllic twice.”

“Well that’s how nice it is it needs to be said twice. So where is Matthew anyway?”

“He’s at work.” April looks at Jackson with an amused grin, “You said we needed to talk is everything okay?”

Jackson sighs and decides to rip the band aid off, “April I tried to be respectful to you and let you decide when to tell me at your own pace but now things are changing and lives are literally at stake here.”

April narrows her eyebrows in confusion, “Tell you what?”

“I know you and Matthew split up, I know he and Ruby don’t live here anymore.”

April looks at him shocked, “How did you…?” April scoffs figuring it out, “Freaking Karev, can’t keep her mouth shut like her brother.”

“In her defense she told me hoping it would make me ride on a white horse and sweep you off your feet. Also, she was going through a lot as I am sure she told you and I recommend you don’t kill or horribly maim her.”

“I’ll let you know when the urge passes.” April groans and sits on the couch.

Jackson joins her looking at her in sympathy, “Are you okay?”

April chuckles bitterly, “Well my husband is about to divorce me and we’re in a pandemic. Honestly, I am just trying to hang tough and be a strong mom for Harriet right now.”

“And you are.” Jackson commends April who grins slightly, “Amber told me Matthew left because he never forgave you for leaving him at the altar, is that true?”

April swallows a lump in her throat, “I wish it was just that it would make things so much easier but…the truth is we both jumped into something when we were high on love. We thought it was a part of God’s plan, us meeting each other years later when we were both heartbroken. Like it made all the pain we went through worth it because in the end we found each other. But then the high died and with it…we figured out a little while ago that things aren’t so simple. He tried he really did try not to hate me, and he is so good with Harriet, and I adore Ruby, but the truth is we were just trying to write a story. We didn’t take the time to figure out how we worked in real life. And then his sister got sick, he and Ruby went to Philadelphia to help out and she got better but…their still there and they’re not coming back.” April sighs after her recap with Jackson looking at her in sympathy.

“I’m sorry April, I know this isn’t how you imagined yourself right now.”

April snorts, “A two-time divorcee working the streets in the middle of a plague?”

Jackson grins, “In short yeah. If it makes you feel better, I didn’t imagine myself a divorced single father isolating with a heartbroken resident.”

“Well, when you put it like that you have me beat.” They chuckle at the joke and April asks Jackson, “How come you didn’t tell me you knew when you first found out? I saw you plenty of times then and you knew, why didn’t you ask me then?”

Jackson leans forward on his knees, “Well for one I didn’t want to risk you killing my best friend for breaking your trust.” April groans at that clearly peeved at Amber, “And second I wanted you to be comfortable enough to tell me when you did, I didn’t want to upset you more than you already are, why didn’t you tell me you guys were having problems?”

“I thought we could fix things and we’ve both been busy, and I wanted to fully grasp it but then your roommate was crying and I’m a bleeding heart. I wanted her to feel like she wasn’t the only one whose relationship fell apart so spectacularly. I didn’t think she would tell you, but I should have known by now Karev’s are unpredictable and untrustworthy.”

Jackson grins, “And you were maybe a little too proud to tell me?”

April grins and breaks, “Yeah fine, I was a little too proud.” Jackson holds April’s hand in comfort, and she appreciates it. She turns to him with a question of her own, “Why are you talking to me about this now? What changed?”

“Everything’s changed. We’re in a pandemic and we’re both exposed to this at work, especially you. I couldn’t sit by when I know you’re going home alone with nobody to look after you.”

“I guess that’s a good reason, but I am fine. I wear masks, I carry sanitizer and I keep a safe distance so do you.”

“Yeah, but the difference is I’m living with someone who can monitor me and call for help when I’m too weak to.” Jackson persists, “I know you can take care of yourself April, I know how strong you are, but this thing is unpredictable we don’t know everything about it because it’s still new. We can’t take chances especially with what we do for a living. We moved back and forth with Harriet because we chose to get divorced but driving to and from our places now, she’s exposed too. I can’t risk both of your health’s and I know you don’t want to risk Harriet’s if you get sick and nobody is around to take care of her and you.”

April looks at Jackson with raised eyes, “What are you saying?”

“I’m saying I think you and Harriet should come and live with me and Amber.” April shakes her head at that instantly, “Just until this thing is over and it’s safe to go back to our routine.”

April scoffs, “It could be weeks hell months before we can even know some information about this virus and start to develop a vaccine. It’s not gonna go away in an instant and neither am I.”

“I know that. I am just trying to make sure you’re safe and Harriet is safe. I’m thinking about our family here.”

“So am I.” April replies in a broken voice Jackson pauses. April takes a deep breath before explaining, “The last time we lived together…it felt like we were on the track to getting back together to us being a family a real family. And when we went to Montana…I was convinced things were set after that but instead I got pain and uncertainty.” Jackson looks guilty for that time, “And I had to learn to live my life without you and now I have to learn to live my life without Matthew and I can’t repeat it with you again because I’m afraid I will break, and we will never be the same. I can’t expose Harriet to that, and I don’t think you do either. We need boundaries Jackson and you asking me to move in is just gonna bring all of that pain back and I can’t.”

Jackson and April sit there for a moment in silence as Jackson processes her words. He knew she felt pain after Montana and the way he handled it was appalling. It was appalling to treat a woman he married and had a child with like some one-night stand when they were living together at the time. He didn’t know it then but now he knows he evaded that talk for a reason and April needs to know that reason.

“I’m sorry for not bringing up Montana.” Jackson starts with an apology to smooth things over, “I know I am about three years too late, but you should know it wasn’t my intention to hurt you. The reason I didn’t bring up Montana was because I didn’t know how to.” April looks at him less hurt and attentively, “Things have always been so complicated between us April and I didn’t know what would happen if I opened that can of worms. I didn’t know if I wanted to risk the dynamic, we built for Harriet over old feelings that I don’t know were out of love or spontaneity or familiar comfort. I didn’t want for anyone to end up hurt again…but instead you got hurt and I am sorry.”

April sighs at that apology feeling better while Jackson continues, “You are the last person I wanted to hurt, you need to know that, and you need to know that you were never just sex to me. Not then and not now, Montana was…it was the first time I felt like my life was finally back in one piece. But then we came back, and I had to question if it was old feelings brought up that would die with time. We came back and I was reminded of why we divorced, and I didn’t want Harriet to get hurt. So, I ignored it, it wasn’t about you April and it wasn’t because you meant nothing to me it was because our family means everything to me and I didn’t want to see it explode like my family did after my dad left. I didn’t want for Harriet to go through that pain.”

April nods, “I get it and I get that it was a lot for both of us and I know now that it wasn’t because of me it was just…bad communication. It’s always been our specialty.” Jackson chuckles lightly, “I know your heart is in the right place and you’re right we need to be safe and we need to consider Harriet here. It makes sense that we would live together but you need to know something. I am trying to heal from my marriage ending so you need to promise that you will respect my privacy and not send mixed signals or start something with me you can’t fully comprehend. I need to know that if we do this again, we’re not headed for a fall here and I am not opening myself up for more pain and uncertainty, can you do that?”

Jackson nods, “I can do that. I just got out of a relationship myself with Vic and before Vic I got out of a relationship before Maggie and before Maggie-”

“You got out of a relationship with me?” April finishes with a grin and chuckles, “I’ll give you this you do not waste time.”

Jackson grins, “Yeah and I’m trying to change that. We both need time to ourselves to regroup and figure some things out. I’m trying to do that and so are you so…let’s do that under the same roof. I promise you if you do this with me you are not gonna get hurt again. I’ve learned my lesson and I know now that sometimes we can hurt the people we care about the most without even realizing it. I know now that we are both in a raw place and I know not to stir in unnecessary drama anymore. I don’t want to do anything to hurt you or our friendship, you have my word April Kepner, trust me one more time and I will prove it.”

April takes a deep breath and thinks on it for a moment before coming to a decision, “Do you want to help me and Harriet pack?”

Three Hours Later

Amber comes out of the loft building already drained from catching up with Alex and Jo. She waited in the loft expecting Jackson to be back with Harriet in half an hour, but instead she waited impatiently for three. She got a text from Jackson that he was outside and exhales at the sight of the luxury car ready to head to his place and read on how to survive the apocalypse. She opens the passenger door and instead of an empty seat she finds April Kepner sitting in it wearing a mask with a sour look behind it directed at Amber who looks at her in shock.

“April? I-I didn’t expect to see you here, how have you been?”

“You mean since you told my ex a piece of information about my personal life, I told you in confidence?” April asks back sarcastically causing Amber to blanch, “Get in the back and close the door before the germs get in. We are in a pandemic.”

Amber nods and does as instructed gasping at the sight of Harriet in her car seat, “Hello munchkin how are you and what is your mommy doing with us?”

Jackson grins and explains, “Well with everything going on April and I talked and decided that things would be easier if she and Harriet lived with us at the penthouse.” Amber widens her eyes at that, “Harriet won’t be exposed from being dropped off and there’s three doctors in one place.”

“Wow. First me now April, if I didn’t know better I’d think you were opening your own shelter for sad and lonely women.” Jackson and April chuckle and Amber feels a question on her lips, “Just so we’re clear are you two getting back together or is this just a platonic quarantine.”

“Platonic quarantine.” April and Jackson answer at the same time causing Amber to grin knowingly. She leans down to Harriet rubbing her belly.

“Yeah, we’ll see.” Amber whispers to Harriet while Jackson drives out of the parking lot and back to their home.

[theanticool]

Seeing as the PFL/Bellator rumors are being openly talked about by fighters involved with both promotions, guess it’s time to wildly speculate.

I’ve seen some positive sentiment around PFL’s rumored buying of Bellator MMA. A lot of it stemming from how Bellator has been run since the Viacom/Coker takeover. That’s 100% fair. Bellator went from a place that developed its own talent, to a side show, to a place talent the UFC didn’t want anymore went, and is only now enjoying an influx of homegrown talent (at a reduced rate tbh). The hiring of Big John on commentary is baffling, as he’s terrible at it. Viewership fell off the map as they moved off Spike/Paramount TV. Cards are full of slow grind fest or mismatches. So I get the idea of Bellator going away being a potential positive.

What I don’t get is the enthusiasm around PFL being the ones to buy them out. PFL has many of the same problems. Cards laden with mismatches because of their odd seasonal format necessitates highly paid talent advance out the first round. A bizarre desire to be a PPV company without any fighters who appeal to a casual audience. No promotional ability. Like, they can’t sell out the goddamn Hulu theater! I was in the Hulu Theater for Serrano-Cruz and Glory and both times they were packed. That’s how little name recognition PFL has, despite years on ESPN. That’s the other thing, their deal with ESPN is up soon. It wasn’t much but that was a significant amount of the actual revenue PFL generated. Outside of VC and Saudi money, PFL has been a fire pit for cash. They’re trying to expand to all these places: Europe, Africa, South America, the Middle East, etc. They’re paying $10 million+ for a Francis Ngannou fight in 2024. Where is all that money coming from? They don’t have a TV deal. They don’t sell PPVs. They barely move tickets. I doubt they’ve sold 100 PFL t-shirts.

Not to mention, PFL is the same organization who’s former matchmaker had to be quit because he was the ACTING MANAGER for many of the fighters on roster. Lord knows how much influence Ali Abdelaziz still has in the office.

I understand that Bellator and PFL needed to make changes. They could not both keep limping along pretending they were viable alternatives to the UFC. But all of a sudden, we’re going from three “big” North American promotions to two. That means fighters are going to lose their jobs. That means you have less options on what to watch. That means fighters’ (little) leverage at the bargaining table is being cut. It means that one of the biggest media companies in the world decided a secondary MMA promotion to the UFC was not a viable investment in a landscape where sports are the things drawing eyeballs to the TV.

Like I always say, I’m hoping for the best. But buying Bellator does not address the #1 issue facing any of these promoters - you have to draw people to the product. No one but us and a handful of other sickos watched Bellator religiously. They won’t care that PFL has Johnny Eblen on roster now. You have to build stars. Maybe instead of spending 8-9 figures to buy a company with like no name value, you buy Kayla Harrison or OAM a publicist?

[chronic-ghost]

Chapter 2 of Recovery Road

chapter rating (this will change!): M

pairing: dieter bravo x f!reader

word count: 4571

chapter summary: dieter makes a discovery that tests the limits of his new-found stability

chapter warnings/tags: masturbation, discussions of addiction/rehab/drug use, cursing, praise kink mentioned, implied threesome, everyone's a little bisexual until I say otherwise

a/n: this is a shorter one, but we're laying some ground work for the bigger things ahead! thanks for reading!

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It’s about a week into shooting when he puts two and two together. 

Your pupils. 

The clinking in your purse.

Why you suddenly disappear from the set for a few minutes and when you come back, the light is back in your eyes. 

You’re walking back from the crafts table, still in your robe from the makeup department, when he grabs your upper arm and hauls you down a hallway between two sets. 

He’s seething.

“You’re on drugs, aren’t you?” 

“What the fuck–,” you nearly drop your coffee cup as he pushes you against the wall. 

“Admit it,” Dieter snarls, the edges of his vision going black. “You’re high, right now.” 

Scowling up at him, you drop the cup onto a bench beside you and then stand up tall, as tall as you can without shoes on. He still towers over you but that just gives you access to his jugular vein. 

“Fine. I took a few bennys before coming here. What’s it fucking to you?” You hiss, eyes narrowing.

“You are fucking with people’s lives. If this shoot is delayed because you lost your shit, then–,”

A few of the techs walk by the hallway and he realizes just how close he is to you. Your chest is heaving, your eyes dark and scowling. You look ready to claw his eyes out. 

He steps back, trying to reign in the flood of emotions pummeling through his chest. The crew walk on, oblivious to you baring your teeth at each other in the dark. 

“If this shoot is delayed because you lost your shit and people are out of a job, that’s on you,” he hisses, quietly but no less viciously. 

“I’m here to do my job and I think it’s going pretty fucking well,” you snap in a low voice. “No one but you has said a single thing, you observant freak.” You huff, adjusting the robe that’s fallen off your bare shoulder. “How did you know?”

The thought crackles like a loose spark plug: are you naked under there? 

He wrenches it out of the meaty chunks in his brain and sends it into oblivion. 

“I know the fucking signs – and I know the signs when someone starts to lose control and spiral. So if I get a whiff of that, I’m going straight to Heidi, got it?” 

Your eyes narrow at him. “Well, here’s a fucking idea, Dieter, just stop sniffing me.”

Oh fuck, did you notice? When you walked into hair and makeup this morning and the smell of your perfume – like apple pie of all things – made his mouth water. He had turned his head and inhaled before the stylist turned him back to the mirror. 

 He didn’t even mean to do it. It just happened, a fissure in his resolve. 

“This project–,” his voice cracked, his mouth bone-dry. He tries again. “This project is important to a lot of people. And you’re going to ruin it by being a selfish brat.” 

Genuine hurt flashes across your eyes. “No one here even knows, much less figured it out. I’ve never hurt anyone with this.”

You rarely showed your age, but this is one of those times. He chuckles darkly and puts his hands on his hips. “That’s where you’re so fucking wrong. Dead wrong.” 

Your mouth opens, rage in your eyes, when the speaker system calls him to set three. He only had two scenes today but he wanted to hang with Heidi and see her work her magic. He was even more furious that you had ruined his good mood. 

“You may think you have it under control, but you’re wrong,” he says quietly, like a threat. He watches you down his nose. You’re small against the wall, but would hiss and swipe like a hellcat if he came any closer. “That shit is going to ruin your life and I’m not going to sit back and watch that happen.”

Shooting went on, surprisingly without a hitch. Everyone showed up on time and everyone did their part. His scenes with Mark were his all-time favorite. Theirs was a natural rhythm, easily adopting the role of older and younger brother, despite the fact that their characters weren’t related. He even played the guitar live as his character showed Mark’s something new he had been working on. When Heidi called cut, no one spoke for a full moment and then the applause began. He couldn’t fight the grin that burst across his cheeks. Even Mark was clapping. He stood up and smacked him on the shoulder.

“That was fucking great, Dee. You did so well.”

In his shoes, his toes curled. Being an actor and having a praise kink was a lethal combination. He smiled at his friend.

“Thanks, man.” 

The days passed. They were on schedule, for once. Heidi even had a chance to go visit her kids in Canada on the weekend. She gave the party at the hotel that night her full blessing. 

“You’ve all earned it,” she says, standing on a table to oversee everyone. “Please take the night off and enjoy yourself. But I expect to see everyone back here on Monday, ready to get working. So, if I hear that anyone got arrested, I’ll be very cross with you.”

In the back, Dieter laughs along with everyone. Heidi’s gaze leaps over him as she addresses the crowd. “Your hard work means a lot to me and the studio. Thank you and have a great time!”

A cheer goes up. He claps as one of her assistants helps her off the table. 

Not too long ago, these parties were the kind of things he lived for. 

The kinds of parties where everyone would be drinking after a couple of weeks of working together in long hours, enough to build up at least a casual friendship. By then, he already knew exactly who to talk to, ranked primarily by who gave him the biggest “fuck me” eyes. Sometimes he didn’t even need to wait for the first all-cast-and-crew party for that to happen, but the alcohol and the drugs in his pockets made it a lot easier. Lots more fun, too. 

But that was old Dieter.

This Dieter sits beside the hotel pool on one of those white plastic recliners, nothing in his hands but a bottle of water. He twists the lid back and forth as he watches everyone enjoy themselves, the light of the pool glittering across the many beautiful faces. The music is loud, thumping inside his head. 

The nice lady at the rehab center warned there’d be nights like this. Where temptation was running high. He can smell the weed in the crowd and even the waiter behind the bar is strikingly cute. There’s no shame in excusing yourself, she had said. You don’t owe people anything.

He knows it’s just in his head, but he feels like he’s bringing the party down. He’s the main lead and all he can do is hide in the corner and pathetically nurse his non-alcoholic drink. 

You don’t owe people anything. His foot taps nervously. 

He hasn’t seen you in weeks, your scenes never overlapping with his. He wonders if you asked for it to be that way. 

“Hey, Dieter, how’s it hanging?”

He looks up and finds Samuel of The Sixers waving at him through the crowd. He digs his way through, followed shortly by the rest of his band. Roxie has Cooper in a headlock and Marie is laughing. Nick is smoking the fattest blunt he’s seen in years and his mouth waters, just a bit. 

“Hey, guys. You liking the party?” He stands up and shakes Samuel’s hand. Over his shoulder, Roxie releases Cooper and he nearly pushes her into the pool, but Marie yanks her out of the way at the last minute. Samuel sees him watching his band tussle. 

“Yeah. If these idiots could ever learn to act right in public.” His eyes slide back to Dieter and in a flash of the light from the pool, he sees that Samuel’s pupils are as wide as dinner plates.

Fuck. They’re all probably on something. 

His gaze drops further to the water bottle in his hand. “What are you drinking, man? Can I get you a refill?”

“Nah, just water for me. I gotta call my old lady later and she likes it when I’m not drooling on the floor.”

Samuel nods, clearly having no one to tie him down, and Dieter feels so fucking old. 

He swallows, trying to bring liquid back into his mouth. “So, uh, is this your first big Hollywood party?” 

Samuel rocks his head back and forth, considering. “Big party in Hollywood, nah? Between the five of us, it feels like we know half the town and we go out all the time. But, big Hollywood party where famous people actually mean to show up? Yeah.” 

“You like it?”

Samuel grins and pulls a sip of beer from the open bottle in between his fingers. “Fuck yeah, dude. Famous people are always so fucking hot.” 

The old Dieter wouldn’t have wasted a second longer with this kid. He’d have him eating out of the palm of his hand, on his knees come morning. Fuck, maybe he really did have to call his old lady.

“Speaking of which,” Samuel turns away. His chest puffs slightly, the way some men do when they’re talking about something sensitive. “Have you seen Natalie lately? Was having a nice chat with her before things wrapped today and I’d like to continue it.” 

Dieter shakes his head. “Nope. Haven’t seen her in a while.” 

And then, like you were waiting for your cue, a loud whoop goes up from the crowd. The people near the diving board are jostled out of the way and you, in an electric blue one piece, strut on to the very edge of the diving board. Your hair is up, exposing your long neck. 

“Ladies and gentlemen,” you call and it’s like the whole world slows. Every head stops what they’re doing and turns towards you. You grin a gigawatt smile. “Ladies and gentlemen, I am so sorry to bother you on this fine evening, but I’ve got a bone to pick. This fucker,” you point dramatically over your shoulder to one of the crafts guys who is bright red and clearly plastered. He waves, someone bumps him, and he almost falls over. But he is not the point. “This fucker right here, says I can’t do a flip into this pool. Now, I’d like to open the floor and put that to a fucking vote. Who here thinks I can do a flip off this here diving board – raise your hand.” 

A yell goes up from the crowd all nestled around the pool, hanging on your every word, as dozens of hands rocket into the air. Samuel cheers, his own hand high up into the night. 

Dieter thinks he can’t breathe. Not normally anyway. Not when this thing is clawing into his chest.

You nod, glowing blue in the reflection of the pool, and put your hands on your hips. 

“That’s fucking right. And you fuckers who didn’t put up your hands, I see you and I’m coming for you, assholes.”

The crowd laughs and you smirk. You could direct them to jump off the ledge of the hotel and half of them would do it. You’re magnetic. You’re vibrant. You are a fucking star. 

“Do the flip!” Someone yells and the cheer goes up again. 

Dieter ducks back as the crowd surges forward, closer to you and your thunderous circus. His palms are sweating and there’s a pounding beginning over his right eyebrow. He chucks the empty water bottle in the trash can as he all but races out of the pool gate. He hears the splash, the roar of approval, and he thinks his heart stops for a minute. 

“Hey, baby, how are you doing?” Chloe’s voice is like a balm to his overheated skin. He has his phone clutched to his ear and he sighed the moment she picked up. He leans forward and puts his forehead to the cool glass of the window. 

“Good. Better now that I’m talking to you.” She’s out opening another one of her father’s galleries in Portugal or else he’d be curled up next to her at home, begging her to let him fuck her tits. 

“How goes shooting?” Her voice is slightly muffled, as if she has the phone cradled up to her ear with her shoulder as she moves around the space. He thinks of her willow-y frame, her long brown hair that lies beautifully soft against her head, and he misses her so much he physically aches. 

“It’s good. Had a great time working with Mark this week and–,”

“Sorry, can you hold on a second?” There’s muffled noises on the other side of the phone, as though she has her palm pressed over the speaker. He can’t quite make out what they’re saying but it rubs wrong against his already-raised anxiety. He squeezes the phone closer to his ear. 

“Chloe? You there?”

More shuffling. “Yes, yeah, sorry. They want me in the back to start unloading some exhibit items that came in today. What were you saying about the shooting?”

His hand tightens around his elbow, some reassurance. 

“It’s going fine, baby. All good. I just want to hear your voice. Tell me about your day. Or don’t. Just talk to me.

She laughs in his ear. “Oh, honey, you sound exhausted. Didn’t Heidi give you all the night off?”

The soft image of his wife is suddenly railroaded by your blue swimsuit, the curls around your neck right from the moist air. His mouth twitches as he clenches his fist. He turns away from the window, where the party continues down below, and he sits up on his bed, against the headboard, his long legs stretched out in front, as far away from you as he physically can be. 

“Yeah, but the party sucks. I’d rather be with you.” 

“Aww,” she clicks her tongue. “I’m sorry, Dee. I know how much you used to like those weekend parties.”

“It’s where we met,” he muses softly, his thumb rubbing over the rough material of his jeans on his thigh. He waits. He wants her attention on him – solely on him – so he uses that tone of voice that makes her mouth go slack and her shoulders tense. He smirks as there’s silence over the phone. “Do you remember that night, baby? You looked so fucking gorgeous. In those jeans and that black halter top. So fucking hot.”

Chloe laughs, breathlessly, and he knows he has her. He slides down on the mattress, his hand palming himself over his pants. 

“You can’t actually remember what I wore,” she teases but he can almost feel the pulse in her wrist. 

“I do, baby, I fuckin’ do,” he croons, hoping his voice nestles around her ear like he’d use his nose if he was there. “What are you wearing right now?”

“Dieter,” she gasps and he squeezes his rapidly hardening cock. He closes his eyes as he hears her breathing harshly. This is what he needed after weeks of keeping his nose so close to the grindstone, he thinks he’s gone temporarily blind. He needed to be taken apart and put back together. He would give up his house in the hills if he could suddenly transport her here to this bedroom. 

“Dee, I’m unpacking Dad’s paintings – we can’t–,”

“Yes, we can,” he husks. He forgoes the buttons or zipper and dips his hand down his pants. He starts rubbing himself, the lack of freedom and space as hot as it is restrictive. “Baby, turn on Facetime. I wanna see your perfect tits.”

“Dieter, please,” she whines, “I really have to get this done before tomorrow.”

“This won’t take long,” he groans. He’s not lying. He sees one naked nipple and he’s going to cream all over his hand. “Please. I need you.” 

He tries again and again to picture Chloe’s beautiful face contorted in pleasure but it won’t stay. It won’t stick. He huffs in frustration and unfocused desire.

“Chloe, please, pick up, I gotta–,”

The door to his room rattles and he freezes with his hand still down his pants. He thinks he hears laughter but that could just be his horny-as-all-get-out brain making shit up. He feels a bit light headed.

“Dieter, are you there?”

The door handle rattles again and he’s pretty sure this is the night he goes back to jail. Only this time for murder. 

“Chloe, give me a second, I’ve gotta go.” 

“Is everything–,”

He ends the call with a tap, the pulsating need between his legs making his knees buckle. The room spins. He stumbles over to the door and wrenches it open to his actual worst nightmare. 

It’s you, damp, pool water still dripping from your hair. Your makeup is smeared underneath your eyes and your cheeks are flushed. You’re also higher than a satellite. 

You lean up, swaying, frowning, blinking at the key card in your hand, then to his feet, his thighs, his hips, his chest and then you linger on his neck. 

“Wait a minute– this isn’ m‘ room,'' you slur. 

Against the door frame on the other side, Roxie rolls into your shoulder. She mouths your neck. 

“Whose is it, then?” Her eyelids slide open and sees Dieter still standing frozen with his cock half-hard. “Oh, shit, Dieter. We should go.” Her hands wrap around your waist and his heart knots in his chest. 

Samuel appears from the right, springing off the wall the moment Roxie says his name. 

“Dieter’s here?” Samuel grins, also stupidly high, as they lock eyes. “Hey, c’mon, man, we’re having a party in Natalie’s room.” 

Dieter absolutely loathes the way your name sounds in his mouth. 

“If we can find my room,” you giggle and Roxie kisses you forcefully on the cheek. 

“Don’t make me deal with these two by myself.” Samuel leans up against the door frame as the girls stumble back, laughing. Samuel also makes a very clear show of eye-fucking him from top to bottom. “There’s enough for all of us to go around.” 

Something in him speaks, when he is pretty sure he’s too stunned and too horny to even form words. There’s something scratching at the back of his brain, like a fire ant bite. 

“Your room is 212. This is 214.” 

“Ah, my bad. Everythin’s kinda blurry righ’ now.” 

You straighten up, Roxie wandering over to Samuel and digging her fingers around his belt loop. So not really siblings after all. Samuel has Roxie by the waist against the wall and they’re more mouth-fucking than kissing. You watch with great interest. 

“You could join us, you know.” 

That slur is gone from your voice, as if you’ve been struck with clarity. You look at him dead-on. 

The blue suit sticks to you in all your curves. Your ass. The curve of your breasts. Your very, very tight nipples. 

But your pupils are so black, so wide, they nearly eclipse the color of your irises. You’re not in your right mind. You’re not asking him in your right mind. 

He jerks his feet back. 

“I’m married,” he murmurs and slams the door shut. 

He stands there, frozen, sweating, his cock hard in his jeans again. His hands are shaking as he stares at the door. After a moment, the noises on the other side subside and the haunting laughter drifts away. 

He thinks you’ve all left, but he can’t risk going to the door to check. 

Fuck.

Fuckfuckfuck.

His shirt is over his head before his bare feet cross into the bathroom. He jerks the shower handle all the way to the bottom of the blue line. His knees are shaking as he unbuttons his pants and strips them off along with his underwear.

The ice cold water hits him straight in the face, across the chest, and down to where he’s so hot, he thinks his skin might have melted. He gasps, the change in temperature painful. A thousand needles swell out from his groin but he needs that feeling, that pain. Any other feeling than that pulsating heat. 

But it’s not fucking enough. 

Not after the stunt in the pool. Not after the robe off your shoulder. Not after the aborted phone call with Chloe. He needs some fucking relief. 

With a snarl, he turns away from the ice cold water and finally puts the pressure where he needs it the most. Faces flutter through his brain and he lets them because the sooner he gets this over with, the sooner they’ll leave him alone. 

Chloe. Roxie. Samuel. They’re all there in his head, spurring on his hand as he furiously gropes himself. Long, rough strokes up from the base to the head where he’s already leaking precum. He gasps, a different kind of pressure building behind his eyes and in his gut. He throws his hand up against the white tile to keep himself from buckling to his knees. He pushes his forehead against the cold wall in front of him, his teeth clenched so hard they might crack. 

Samuel. Roxie. Chloe. He fucks his fist faster, huffing and moaning, hips thrusting wildly into the cup of his hand. Doesn’t care if the entire hotel can hear him. Maybe wants someone to hear him so they come in and scold him. Stop him. He squeezes his balls and he moans, long and loud– breath hot– into the tile. 

Roxie. Samuel. Chloe.

Samuel. Chloe. Roxie. 

You. 

Fucking you. 

That fucking swim suit is an affront to all things good and holy.

And, goddamn it, that’s what does it– the image of your tits lit up from the bottom by the light of the pool, your ribs delicate and splayed – the pleasure bomb at the base of his spine shatters apart and he groans loudly, deeply, as he splatters the tile in front of him with his spend. His hips twitch. 

Relieved, he beats his fist weakly against the wall, the last of the tension leaving his body, releasing every muscle. Cum drips down from the head of his cock and spirals down the drain between his feet. 

“Fuck,” he whimpers. 

He stands there until he shivers from the cold, until his cum is washed off the walls. He hasn’t made a single hotel housekeeper clean up after him in a long time and he doesn’t intend to start now. 

He shuts off the water and drags a towel off the bar. He wraps it around himself, not even drying off his hair. He shuts off the light on the wall with a punch and tips forward into bed, into sleep, the towel sliding down around his hips. 

I’m so fucked up, he thinks before sleep picks up a two-by-four and wallops him unconscious. 

He thinks he’s being punished.

He thinks the universe is having a big fucking laugh at his expense. Poke and prod the fucker until he unravels. Dance, monkey, dance. 

This cannot be happening, he thinks. But it is.

“Heidi, please don’t do this.” He’s sitting on the end of her bed three days after the party. He was good, he was doing so fucking good, just like she asked and now she’s abandoning him. He rubs her sheets under his fingers. 

The studio called Monday morning and told her that they were taking her off this project and assigning her co-director duties with a newcomer out of Montreal. He was the son of some-so-and-so CEO at the studio and it needed to not look like nepotism. Even though it totally fucking was. 

Heidi sighs, one hand on her suitcase. She had been staying at the hotel to be closer to the shoot and now she’s flying halfway across the country. Chloe is still gone for the next few months. Now he has no one to keep him on the straight and narrow. No one to believe in him. To want him to be better. 

She left for one fucking weekend and look what almost happened. 

Her green eyes catch his on the floor. She’s kneeling in front of him, hands on his knees.

“Dee, you know I don’t want this. I am so fucking furious they’ve screwed us over, I could scream, but . . .” she sighs again, rubbing her forehead with her palm. “The movie is far enough along that it can kind of happen on its own. There’s just a handful of scenes left to shoot.”

Oh, he knows exactly which ones. He’s counting down the days, dread gnawing at his gut. 

Five days. He’s got five days until he has to kiss you. Why the fuck they’re doing that scene first is beyond him and normally, he could go to Heidi and they’d talk about it – maybe give them a few scenes to adjust to each other. But he doesn’t know this new director and he’s not about to bring out his “Dieter the difficult actor” show this late in the game. 

He hasn’t told Chloe about the other night. He doesn’t even know what to say if he did. It’s so fucking juvenile it makes him sick. 

He hasn’t seen you since that night. He did run into both Samuel and Roxie at the crafts table two days later. They both looked like they might projectile vomit if someone breathed too heavy in their direction and only greeted him with a nod.

Given their less than horrified reactions, he can only assume they have absolutely no memory of that night. God, he wishes he could be so lucky. 

He looks for you around every corner. 

She sits on the bed next to him and sighs.

“Please, don’t go.” He puts his head on Heidi’s shoulder and she thumbs the back of his neck. “I don’t think I can do this without you. And you’re the only one who can control her.” 

It’s true. You were a consummate professional around her. He wants to scream. Nobody else saw you like he did. No one else knows who you are, except him.

Heidi laughs gently. “Dieter, she’s a twenty-two year old woman. Not a snake. She’s not actually going to bite you, you know?” 

She’s going to do so much worse, he thinks unwillingly. 

Heidi sits on the bed next to him, taking his hand in hers.

“You’re not the man you were, alright? You can do this.” She strokes his hair. “Maybe fly Chloe out for the weekend. I know she’s busy, but she can probably swing just a few days, right?”

He nods, a lump in his throat. He never thought he’d ever be the person to say this but he misses his wife. He misses her stability. Her security. He misses the person he is around her. 

“You can call me with anything, Dee. Any time, day or night, okay?” 

He nods again and she pushes his hair out of his face. He feels very small in a big man’s body. He feels dirty and shameful and he didn’t even do anything. 

“Fly safe, Di. Call me when you land.”

He pulls her into a hug, struggling to hold onto the last threads of his sanity.

[nickcarr-scoutstories]

Where All The Houses Look The Same. (a Scout Story) The man shows me around his living room with pride, and I smile and take pictures and try my best to act as though I’m seeing it for the first time, when in fact I’ve already been in this living room three times this afternoon. I am scouting a neighborhood where all the houses look the same. It’s a modern tract home development on the outskirts of Los Angeles, built five years ago, or maybe ten, or maybe it’s impossible to say with certainty anymore because it feels like the architects have finally figured out a model that defies dating and have been churning them out ever since. In truth, the homes are not exactly identical. There are four or five models that repeat at intervals, each with its own small variations. All are a shade of beige, but some are sand-colored, some mocha. Every so often, a house design is inverted, as though it’s a mirror image of the one across the street. But as this man leads me from the dining room to the kitchen, it’s a though his home is one of a kind, the center of his universe. He tells me how overjoyed he was to be able to afford it after moving to this country from India. He shows me each of his children’s bedrooms, clearly proud they don’t have to share. In his own room, he points out his view of the scrub-covered hills in distance as though it were a vista of the Rockies. And as I take pictures, my frustration grows, because we are going to portray this man as a fool. Because you’ve seen this neighborhood, the neighborhood where all the houses look the same, in countless movies and TV shows. And in virtually every instance, it is always used to inspire one particular reaction: ridicule. In the movies, there is no more shameful place to live than the neighborhood where all the homes look the same. It is uniformly portrayed as an undeniable symbol of a character’s vapidity, their soullessness, their superficiality, their simple-mindedness. “How could anyone live in a place where all the houses look the same?” we are meant to ask as we recoil in horror at the idea. It is nothing less than a suburban purgatory, a place where the days bleed into weeks, the weeks into months and years, and all is the same and nothing ever changes and so your first hour there is indistinguishable from your last. Almost universally, if the fictional homeowner completes their inner character arc by the end of the movie as expected, their final triumph is moving out of such a neighborhood in favor of one that has been deemed acceptable: a classically unique home, situated amongst other classically unique homes. If their personal growth goes awry, the punishment is to remain. Of all the tired locations I get asked to search for, I hate this one the most. I hate it because despite having scouted countless such properties over the years, I have never once met a single homeowner who resembles the soulless, vapid, superficial, simple-minded cliché who will be portrayed as living in their home. A privilege of being a scout is that as you are photographing a person’s home, they will often volunteer intimate details of their lives with you, such as how they came to live there. And consistently, the reasons people offer for having chosen this sort of neighborhood could not be more universally understandable. The desire for as large a house as can be afforded, with lots of space to raise a family. Access to good schools for their children. Low crime rates. Centrally located. Reliable infrastructure. All are extremely aware of the copycat nature of their homes. It’s not a secret. They know. It’s not like in the movies, where the homeowner is inexplicably ignorant of the most obvious trait of their neighborhood, only to jolt awake to the monotony of design as the movie progresses. Homeowners will often make light jokes about it up front, typically followed up with a “but what are you gonna do?” shrug. It easy to tell that they consider uniformity to be a minor trade-off for attaining highly regarded benefits that would otherwise not be available to them. This is the fundamental issue that filmmakers seem terminally oblivious to. It’s not the 1950s anymore, when affordable homes were abundant, and living in tract housing was to some degree an aesthetic choice. It is 2023, where homeownership is outside the reach of most average people, certainly in cities like Los Angeles. The idea of portraying a resident of such a home as some sort of tasteless automaton is the grossest condescension I can imagine. At the very least, I can say with authority that such a depiction has no basis in reality. As my scout concludes, I thank the man for showing me his beautiful home, and then move on to the next one. Indeed, it is near identical. The only differences I can identify are an additional dormer window and a slightly different paint job. But the woman I meet inside could not be more different. She’s younger, and recently married, and as she begins to share the story of why they chose this home due to her husband’s career in the army, any hope of simplistic categorization instantly vanishes. As it always does. As it always will. -- Scout Stories is a print-only publication of personal stories and photography from my 18 years as a location scout, published quarterly. Purchase Scout Stories #1 here: www.nickcarr.com NEW Scout Stories #2 issue coming March 1.

[amazon160]

FNaF MOVIE REVIEW 🗣️‼️ 🐻🐰🐤🦊

I know I’m late to the party but I saw the movie opening weekend and I’ve already watched this movie three times through already and I thought I’d pitch in my thoughts on it :P

For starters, spoilers. If you still haven’t seen the movie and SOMEHOW haven’t been spoiled yet, don’t read this.

The things I loved:

I think the movie made the right decisions on two occasions--

ONE, the animatronics. They look like they were ripped straight out the game, they look amazing, and I haven’t seen one complaint about them. If anything, it’d be the one thing the critics liked about the movie. TWO, and this is a controversial one, the rating. It definitely cut down on the horror, yes, but adding an R rating would cut down half its audience (including me but not bc I’m underage, bc I’m Mormon and we don’t watch rated R 💃). The movie wouldn’t have been as much of a success as it is now if not for the pg-13.

Other than those two, I loved the animatronics and the personality they brought. I loved how they advertised this as focusing on the “killer animatronic” element of FNaF, but ended up focusing on the supernatural part. And not even close to how we’d imagine, almost like a tragic and wholesome side to the kids’ possession.

Another controversial point, I’m glad they changed up the lore a bit. It has the key points in the games to keep fans satisfied, but it changes it up just a wee bit to keep them theorizing and catch them off guard with the Vanessa twist at the end. Speaking of Vanessa--

The things I had mixed feelings on:

Vanessa. Her character is so strange. Sure, it was explained at the very end why she is the way that she is. But she still feels off. The fort scene is a good example. She was on board with Abby building the fort, but once Mike said “they seem to like her”, Vanessa snapped. Then threatened to shoot him if he ever came back with Abby. 😐

I also felt mediocre about the pacing of the movie. I liked the mystery element of Mike trying to unravel what happened with the kids and his brother. But I would also like me some scary animatronic screen time if you know what I mean. It even got boring at some parts.

The last thing. The spring-lock scene. That entire ending sequence made up for the middle of the movie, in my opinion. But it felt too rushed. Something they could’ve added is some more time with Freddy and Bonnie instead of Mike just taking them out right then and there. It just felt anticlimactic. And then the spring-lock scene was, well. I think it was good. It was realistic, and it was still considered gruesome to some. You still get to see the guy getting impaled. But I can get behind fans that say it was somewhat disappointing.

But I do think this movie shows just how much our expectations are thrown off by the VHS tapes. We should all know by now the fan-made stuff is way scarier than the canon.

Things I didn’t like:

Well, not things I didn’t like, no. Just things we could improve on.

I know plot holes are FNaF’s whole thing, but can we explain what happened with Aunt Jane, or the difference between Golden Freddy and Freddy, and what happened to the brother? I suppose the fans would be able to figure two of those things out, but still.

The writing could be improved as well. The film has a tone problem where it’s foreboding and fits the games fairly well. But then it turns all cheesy and campy during that middle part, which is fine, but sits weird and almost out of place when we go back to “killer animatronics”.

I also wish we would incorporate more of the game into the movie. I know we already went through the process of making the animatronics, but I feel like we could’ve had a legit horror movie if the atmosphere and tension from FNaF 1 was replicated here. I also would love to see more of the gameplay in there. The doors, I understand. But the security cameras were so UNDERUTILIZED.

Then the one that everyone’s complaining about, more violence. Not the rated R stuff, but just more of seeing the animatronics in action.

What I wanna see in the sequel:

Cus we’re no doubt getting a sequel. After those interviews? The Puppet teased in the credits?? The box office scores???

-MORE HORROR. I think this is on everyone’s minds right now. We need more horror or violence, more kills. More action.

-Plot. This has gotta be the toughest thing about adapting FNaF of all things into a movie, but the lore can be altered and even the pacing of the story can be fixed. Also pls fill in those plot holes.

-More of the animatronics. I was surprised they didn’t get MORE screen time in this movie. They did get a decent amount and were hinted at by the ghost kids who also got a decent amount in. But I need to see more of them. They’re who everyone’s coming out to see after all.

-MORE GOOD JUMP SCARES. Typically, horror movies that rely on jump scares are just cheap and trash. But FNaF is the king of jump scares and is probably the only exception. Also those jump scares need to be GOOD. UNPREDICTABLE. The movie did have jump scares, but because they were predictable, they weren’t scary.

-DESIGNS. I want them to mix up the designs a tiny bit like they did Balloon Boy. He already looks so much creepier than his og counterpart. I wonder what they could do with the Withered Animatronics…

I’ll go more into detail about hopes for the sequel as more comes out over time, but for now, let’s enjoy what we have.

Thank you, Scott.

[captainkurosolaire]

Traitor

Downpour ceased into a gentle fall. Darkened clouds drifting with precipitation forewarned of a looming critical storm, yet faint, a hint of warmth, that circular Sun concealed from its duty could be given peer. Swelling with emotions of loss, amongst his own abode. A ship’s anchor was removed allowing tides their commandment of destiny. Blackguard, taking center deck, a shout bellowed out. “Come out. You’ve won, before I die here. I desire my why.” His gut-instinct knew who the culprit was. Defeat written in his body-language, slouching posture from deceit. He told the Crew to leave but the treacherous snuck aboard a scent the Miqo’te picked up. Paced feet drew forth from creeping shadows, a cloaked individual wearing a mask of Imitation of Mistbeard. Even alone, cowardice mind games are played. While a silver-pointed pistol with engravings <Silver Wind> had been locked onto the Captain since departure. Frowning unruly symbolism, apparel was a legacy attire the Goldbrand of Old used to assassinate, ruthlessly collecting hoards of other pirates, merchants, civilians. Ingrained steep into the culture of piracy. They took Mistbeard’s legend to commit heinous acts. As the original mask held reputation, to pass down from various others; to wretched few, there was a scapegoat to hide crime behind another's identity. None could ever replicate Mistbeard. A King transcended time itself for as long as the actual mask exists, or the imitations, nothing could be forgotten; eternity. This betrayer knew Captain better than any advisory. Two distinct paths taken from a crossroads once shared. Since pre-teens to adulthood.  Sole-survivors. Muffled laughter came from behind that mask, pleased with themselves, before the hooded figure drew a slow methodical grasp on it to pull for identity already known.

The Seeker squinched eyebrows angrily before howling, “We were Skull Brethren! I vouched for you! Three decades between us, growing up beside another, trained! Back to back, front to front! You wanted a Crew like this for sometime! But you fed ruin. WHY! Speak, Sol!” His fanged teeth grit together. Upon name ushered, the Raen revealed himself, discarding Mistbeard’s false mask, tugging off his shadow drapes, revealing an arsenal of a tactical strapped assortment of pistol’s and ammunition enough for atrocious war crimes. Clapping hands together continuously with mockery. “CAPTAIN KURO SOLAIRE.” Following his words like a conductor each word drawn out. “The Infamous Captain Kuro Solaire…. From Harems, magazine covers, large bounties. Denizen’s traversing called you in passerby, The Next Pirate King;  Hells.. The girl I was fond of even wrote about you in her Diary, to her you’re a beacon hero.” Thievery showing-off he held Casta’s journal,  “To her you’re a saint! – Maybe she’s right. Cause’ of you, I’ve saved this realm on three disgusting counts!” Captain’s face showed disbelief, what an ego, talk about something to complain about, snickered to himself letting this condescending praise draw.. The traitor’s tone changed into resentment with a burst. “...But I know who you really are. Over-hyped and rated, you are played out! – I should be the Captain, swimming in recognition, I’m a Pope of the Seas, If anyone’s ascending to King it’s me! I have achieved everything without help, unlike you. Know why? I don’t spare people who cross me, I don’t let my emotion’s get between my fortune. I ERASE them with what comes out from this barrel. You GREW weak on land. Soft as a butterfly. Forgetting who, what we are! We’re PIRATES. Conquerors, everything is subjugated as our rightful claim… Makes me vomit, protecting, compassion, trying to be moral. – You think I was your brother? I couldn’t ever be. Not when I’m a designated shadow, watching you HOIST to the top, you’re a glorified showman. Which piggy-back off me! I’m the creator of where our feet grace, this ship wouldn’t move without me! I won’t be stolen from you ever again!” Shooting bullets into the air with lunacy, demonstrating his dominant Freedom.

Captain never met this side of Sol before was suppressed this his depth? Even unbeknownst to him, two-faced. Long ago an incident occurred where the troubled-Raen had gouged out their own Founding Captain’s eye with a fork, for being commanded. Is this alter-ego the same culprit? This other persona seemed to maliciously come out of nowhere. Was this Garlemald’s influence from being enslaved by them until earning conscription? Nay… This part existed somewhere inside him. Brought to dawn from an event outside Captain’s knowledge. The sun-kissed clad in black stepped daringly forth. “Envy? Huh.” Judgemental amber orbs, infuriating his seething brother-no-more. “Stole from ye? I’ve never been like you, or others upon the original Crew. I couldn’t kill for sport. You relish in making others drown in red. I chose to make others float in pleasure, I gave them my worth, for a small price of a selfish memento to carry with me on high seas. Aye, some, I broke hearts, swindled, hurt but they live now stronger to despise me. I’ve gotten what comes around. You perceive denizen of th’ land feeble? Nay, my mate… They’ve surpassed us! Many can LIVE in Peace! Fine with what they have and got! Can we say that? We struggle stopping after a taste of wealth. Eventually something valuable turns into trash if taken for granted! Accustomed to replacing fer a shiny new thing. Our bond relates t’ this reality. I don’t get it, ye never bothered being Crew’s jester, what changed?” Exhaling bottled lament, showing utter disappointment. The self-proclaimed Pope, snickered and canted his head, “You want to settle down, I’m supposed to follow you? Your ambition is seeing others fulfilled, wow! How generous! Or wait; this for Freedom and Love? Pathetic. Kuro I knew once had unshakable rebellious fire. — For some insane reason. Our Founding Captain chose YOU to be the next successor despite, I'm the senior. He groomed you to replace him. I’ve been discarded as second-rate. When Judas came back, guess what happened? You demoted me back to Shipwright! The reason I put up with being a Jester, is so I can be in the court of the supposed king and usurper him.” Viscous jealousy continued to rattle against the Captain.

Disagreeable shake of his head accompanying a chuckle, “I didn’t have a choice to pick up, after our Captain. If you weren’t lost to the sea and placed into the clutches of Garlemald. Things would’ve been different. Frankly, I’m glad you didn’t inherit this mantle. Cause you disregard all life. From other mercenaries employed, to any semblance in recreating your own Goldbrand with Silverbrand, you mentioned stealing? Ye become polluted by entitlement. – People judged you initially on having any affiliation with the Garleans. Not including your pirate background. I played advocate trusting the side I saw of you, now I’ve painfully learned is fiction. You b’ another insufferable dickless prick. Lobbing blows in the dark, a type who’d sell out his own brother, break up his family.” Spitting on the side with disgust. Striking a nerve from the mercenary, but showing composure quickly. Remembering he held all the power with his firearm. “...Underestimate me, Cap’n. I don’t have a family, I butchered them. You should’ve listened to others, maybe they would’ve stuck around. Where is your Crew now? Ayla? Sivir? Everyone is gone, you’re left to perish alone. What has kindness rewarded you ever? – Nobhead, every-time you visited that orphanage, each Starlight donated your share of hoards to them. I TOOK it back to my trove. All your movements and poor attempts to advance as a person, I rectified them.” Deplorable veracity shown, crueler than death. Stunned by the slimy low, the fathomless spite. The most dangerous enemies to possess are those who've been closest. No resolve to fight anymore. He didn’t react with explosiveness or anger even though, knowing that’s what Sol wanted for that rough-destructive, smash-mouth Captain to come out. “I did make a grave underestimation… What exactly, ye want Mr.Perfection? Still you haven’t broken-even yet, taken enough from me!?” Engulfed by sorrow his throat tugged, how do you combat someone you found dearly to be purely a facade after thirty years! It took only a moment before cherished memories shattered.

He couldn’t understand what this version of foul Sol tried to convince him, become or achieve. To Kuro this was pointless, unbridled envy and unfortunately, his opponent had mentally deleted his resolve. “What I’ve always wanted. – The Successor Crown atop your head.” Sol’s thick Garlean accent gave his demand. “I can tell, you’ve no willpower to fight me. Remember who I am… Try not to hurt yourself, but think, Captain. I KNOW all about you, I’ve followed you everywhere. Saw houses of all your ACTUAL treasures. I could send some mail over to your hearties on the land and they’ll get an unexpected present, that’s surely going to blow them away.” Purest of evil distorted his putrid face, no limit! Existing on lengths, Sol would go to obtain his believed rightful claim. The unholy mark of Scourge gave rise in plain-sight. Captain’s depleted form began straightening, his entire being, resolving aether in fury from a despicable blackmail…  His reason to fight returned. “...Y-You… m-monster!” Previous devil’s encountered in his past and brought their bane couldn’t compare to this level of malice, menace, a brotherhood eaten alive by hatred.

🌊 ♫Gasoline♫ - Reference - Last Chapter 🌊

(Shoutout to my roomie since Sol is his muse, always reliable on brainstorming story ideas together.)

[firstkanaphans]

hi! if you don't mind me asking, i was wondering if i could ask you about how you're able to write at the speed/output that you are able? i'm always so impressed with the rate at which you're able to update and was hoping to ask for advice 😅

because one of the hardest things for me is speed...i write soooo slowly, and so as much as i want to write multichapter fics, i feel like it would take me months between updates because of how slow i write. i think one of the reasons is that i am also constantly live editing as i write maybe? which really does slow me down, but i'm not sure how to bypass that.

i was curious if you had any tips/advice for how to write at a steady pace? do you set aside time every day to write regularly, or only when the mood "hits"? and how do you tackle those scenes where you just have no idea what to write (if that's something if you've experienced?)

of course no need to answer any of these questions - i hope i didn't overwhelm! i'm just always so impressed with your writing output that i'd love to hear any advice if you had any. thank you and can't wait for the next update of BLP 🫶

This probably isn’t the answer you want to hear, but the honest truth is that I just have a very easy day job. There are probably only about three days a month where I have to put in an eight-hour work day. The rest of the time, I use any excess work time I have to write.

It wasn’t always like this for me, though, so I understand the frustration of working a full-time job and then coming home exhausted. The last thing you want to do is write because as much as we try to pretend like it’s fun, it’s still work. It’s not mind-numbing. You can’t do it if your tank is already empty. The main reason I’m able to write quickly is simply that I have the time and the mental energy to do so.

Like you said, one of the biggest tips I can give you when trying to write faster is to turn off your inner editor while writing your first draft. It took me a long time to learn how to do this, but it has been immensely helpful. I will obviously correct typos while I’m writing, but other than that, I really don’t go back and edit anything until the whole first draft is complete. The only exception would be if I get halfway through a chapter and just know something’s not working. At that point I will stop and at least figure out what the problem is so that I don’t waste time writing scenes that may need to be cut depending on what I have to change. But other than that, I largely ignore correct grammar and even good writing in favor of just getting words down on the page.

If you’re a perfectionist like me and the thought of doing that is just completely off-putting, I’ll sometimes trick myself by pretending I’m not writing anything important. In all of my documents, I put the word START where I’m meant to start writing for the day. If I know I’m going to be writing really rough, I just don’t move the START from where it is and that tricks my brain into letting me write bad because I know the next day I’ll start from that same place. So essentially, I’m writing very badly one day and then going back to edit it into something readable the next. I cannot stress enough how much difference even just a day makes in your ability to edit more objectively. I never post chapters on the same day I finish them because I want to give my brain at least 24-hours to mull it over before I start editing.

As for writer’s block, I have pretty much eradicated that from my life simply because I outline everything so thoroughly beforehand. For instance, today I’ve been going through my outline for Chapter 4 of Best Laid Plans so that I can start writing it. One of the bullet points says, “Akk, Aye, Kan, Wat, and Thua eat lunch together.” My job today is to figure out what they’re going to talk about during that lunch so that when I get to that scene, I won’t draw a blank and spend days trying to figure it out instead of actually writing.

Now, that’s not to say that there aren’t days where I just don’t want to write, but for me, those days are few and far between. I don’t, however, believe in forcing yourself to write even when you don’t want to because your output is going to show your frustration with the task. I would never encourage someone to set a goal to write every day because I believe that’s just setting them up for failure. In the end, this really is just a hobby and you should work at your own pace and comfort level. If you’re bored with a multi-chapter fic you’re writing, take a break to write a one-shot. Or add something to your outline to spice up the next scene so that it re-energizes you.

It’s funny because I think output numbers get wildly skewed in fandom because some of us are actually insane. It’s not odd to see 20K-word chapter updates or fics literally longer than the Bible (773K words). If you write 1000 words a week (less than 150 words a day), that’s 52K words in a year, which is very nearly novel-length—and longer than any multi-chapter fic I’ve written. You would never expect a published author to write more than one novel a year, so don’t expect that from yourself either.

[phoenix-is-the-hottest-thing]

hello uhh I hope I'm not bothering you but can you help me with er stuff, you're the expert that I know of

I was watching this youtube video tutorial for HoHE(??) and they use terms for the signets like Griseo 2 and Kalpas 2 but I have no idea which that is... so how do you figure out which signet is signet 1 or signet 2 or signet 3 and so on, please help me I'm suffering in ER and this youtube tutorial is my salvation but I can't figure it out..

THANKS IN ADVANCE I REALLY NEEDED THIS

Alright so!!! First off here are some text guides (warning for some choice cropping coz they’re made by redditors):

When someone says “Griseo 2” or such it means her second Nexus signet. You get to pick one Nexus signet per Flame-Chaser per run when you have have 3 or more normal signets of a Flame-Chaser upon beating a level where their portal appeared.

In other words, you should try to get the same Flame-Chaser over and over again until you have the buffs you want. You can do this by equipping a corresponding signet rate up item and/or being lucky. You also get to reroll portals three times in a run, and three additional times if you equip a specific item.

When you’re picking a signet from the list of 3, the above guides will often have recommendations of which signets you should take in priority. If you can’t get the one you want, it’s okay, you will probably go through that door again, just pick the next best thing you can think of— either more damage or utility (Mobius Lodging: -20% cooldown for summoned entities, support valkyries and ELFs, for example, is a pretty good utility signet to have even if it doesn’t give you more damage)

When you’re in the shop, you can buy signets without going through doors BUT you’ll never get a Nexus signet that way. I would recommend you try to have 2 signets of the Flame Chaser(s) you’re aiming for when you’re ready to exit the shop, so that next time their portal shows up you can directly get their Nexus signet. If you have extra coins of course you can grab more stuff (to take the previous example, Lodgings is always useful to have).

Pay attention to what you’re taking though— less damage taken is usually useless, and Hua signets have damage types that can be useless for your valk (Pardo does ice damage so she can’t use Physical Breach or Physical Damage, while Miss Pink Elf does physical damage and can’t use Elemental Breach or Elemental Damage). If you’re never dodging, Sakura signets will probably be a waste of time. If you’re always at full HP, Kalpas signets will be useless until you grab his second Nexus, etc.

Follow the guide for your valk, and remember what kind of damage you do and what kind of abilities you use!

That said. An important point these guides forget is that not every player has beaten all of ER’s story. Flame-Chasers are unlocked by storymode. If you haven’t met certain characters during the story chapters yet, you won’t be able to get the signets of the corresponding Flame-Chaser.

So if you’re in that situation, use what you currently have and play storymode to unlock more Flame-Chasers! If possible, play a character who’s using the early signets.

Unlock order:

Chapter 1 + potentially the beginning of Chapter 2

Elysia

Hua + Kevin + Sakura

Kalpas

Eden

Su(?)

Mobius

Su(?)

Chapter 3

Pardo

Kosma

Griseo

Aponia

Vill-V

I’m not sure about Su because I’ve heard his order was changed to after Mobius for some people, not sure if it’s random, an update change since I played it, or a bug.

You will unlock the items of the Flame-Chasers by playing Elysian Realm and upgrading their Remembrance Vessel with a currency you earn with every run. This will unlock a cutscene (don’t skip it, ER story is really good) and pretty quickly the items. Additional items and emblems can be unlocked through doing certain tasks in ER over and over. Don’t sweat it, just keep playing the game mode and they’ll be unlocked eventually.

Each time you upgrade a vessel you’ll also unlock a text called a Recollection, reading it gives your crystals and it’s more delicious, delicious lore.

Sometimes there’s bad translations though, especially in chapter 3. You can read most of the recollections as better quality fan translations here:

And you can find a sometimes anotated transcript of all of ER-related content here:

Hope these help you enjoy the story as well 🥰

Oh and, as for rewards, the minimum difficulty you need to beat to get all of them is Corruption. Finality is for the bored and the tryhards. If you can’t beat Corruption, just downgrade the difficulty until it’s easy enough for you to beat then try to go for harder content progressively. Even if you can’t win, you do unlock rewards relative to your score, and your valks become stronger the more often you play them in ER (and upgrading them all the way to ER level 15 also gives crystals).

Good luck o7

If I didn’t cover something, feel free to send another ask.

[mccarthawrites]

Uncle Sam

Relationship: Bucky Barnes/Sarah Wilson

Rating: General Audiences

Summary: Sam takes Cass and AJ out on a boat trip to give Sarah and Bucky a break. He tells the boys about their dad.

Author’s Note: Dave is my own original character because the MCU hasn't really given us a name for Cass and AJ's dad. We know next to nothing about him except he's their dad and he seems to not be in the picture.

Words: 2,806

The Wilson-Barnes Family Masterlist || Bucky Barnes Masterlist

Sarah gave Cass some space. She felt a little better after their talk the other night, but she wasn’t sure she solved the problem. So she talked to Sam about it.

“Cass has been having a hard time.” she told him. The two siblings sat on her porch swing.

“With what? The baby?”

“The baby. Bucky. He snapped at Bucky the other night at dinner and I- I talked to him about it, but I don’t know.”

“Let me guess, he feels like Bucky is replacing Dave?” Sam asked.

“How’d you know?”

“He’s old enough to remember his dad. Bucky is the first real relationship you’ve had since he died. Of course he’s going to feel some type of way.” Sam shrugged. “I mean I would to.”

“I told him no one is being replaced. Bucky has been tiptoeing around, trying not to rock the boat. He loves those boys, but I know he doesn’t know what to do half the time. He wants to support me, but-” She took a deep breath. “If I knew it was going to be this complicated, I’d have waited to have a baby.” She cradled her bump.

“How about this weekend, I take Cass and AJ out on the boat?” Sam suggested. “Let you and Bucky take a break. I’ll talk to them.”

“Would you? That would be great. I don’t know what I’m doing wrong, Sam.”

“You’re not doing anything wrong. You’re an amazing mom. Cass is a kid with big feelings that he doesn’t even fully understand yet. He’s already gone through more than we did at his age.”

“Tell me about it.” She scoffed.

“Everything is going to be okay, but how are you? Are you alright? I mean you’re having another kid.”

“I’m excited, nervous, scared. It’s going to be fine. I’m lucky I’ve got Bucky and you.” She looked at Sam. “I’m happy to have you around more, Sam. I know the boys are too.”

“Don’t start getting soft on me.” Sam teased. She playfully punched his shoulder. “You and- and Bucky are going to be great parents. Like I said you’re already an amazing mom and that’s not going to change.”

“Why are you being so nice?”

“What are you talking about? I’m always nice.” He replied, making her laugh. “It’s gonna be okay.”

“I know.”

Sarah stood in the kitchen, packing a cooler with snacks and drinks. Since Sam was taking the boys for the day, the last she could do was feed them.

“Need help?” Bucky asked, walking into the kitchen.

“No. I’m pretty much done.” She replied. “I’m so glad Sam volunteered to take them for the day. I need a break.”

“No one deserves one more than you.” Bucky told her, making her smile.

“You need a break too.”

“Me? You’re the one doing all the work. You’re body’s working overtime.” He replied. “How do you feel about having a gender party?” He asked. She looked at him confused and concerned.

“A what?”

“Yeah. I didn’t say that right.” He pulled out his notebook, opening to a page. “I meant a gender reveal party.You know where everyone gets together and we announce if we’re having a boy or a girl.”

“I wasn’t even thinking about having one. Why? Do you want to have a gender reveal?” Sarah asked.

“Shuri was sending me videos of them. She was also explaining to me what a baby shower is. I think a baby shower would help with figuring out the nursery.” Bucky explained. Sarah laughed. “What?”

“It’s so early in the pregnancy, I wasn’t even thinking about all that yet.” She told him.

“Added Shuri to the list. In case we have a girl.” He chuckled. Having crossed off the names on his list for his amends, Bucky was now using his notebook to write down baby names and things he was learning being a soon-to-be-dad. He had already filled three pages back to front with name suggestions since they found out Sarah was pregnant.

“At some point we’re gonna have to trim that list down and actually figure out what we’re gonna name them.” She rubbed her bump.

“What about Steve for a boy?”

“Maybe for a middle name, but not for a first name. Steve Barnes? No.” She shook her head.

“Why not? It’s a solid name.”

“What about James?”

“James Junior? It’s too obvious, don’t you think?” He asked.

“We could call him Junior. It’d be cute.” She smiled.

“I guess I don’t hate that. James Steven Barnes. Even if he’ll be a junior, we’re definitely dropping the Buchannan.”

“I agree with that, but we’ve got plenty of time to figure it out.”

“Yeah. I just- I can’t wrap my head around the fact that by this time next year, we’ll have a baby.”

“Yup.” Sarah looked at him. His worried look concerned her. “Hey, you’re going to be a good dad. You’re so good with the boys.”

“I can’t even remember the last time I interacted with a baby. Probably when Katie was born.”

“Your sister?”

“Yeah. When my folks brought her home, she was so tiny. I was twelve.” He explained. “That was around the same time I met Steve, as a matter of fact.”

“With the baby on the way, have you thought about finding your siblings' families? I’m sure you have nieces and nephews.”

“I don’t know. I’ve thought about it, but- I’ve got my family here. You, Cass, AJ and Sam, even though he likes to deny it.” He wrapped his arms around her and kissed her hair.

“You’re cute.” She laughed. Sam knocked on the screen door. “It’s open.

“Good morning.” Sam walked into the kitchen.

“Still getting ready, probably. If you’re hungry, there’s some leftovers from breakfast on the stove that might still be warm.” Sarah told him.

“I got breakfast on my way here, but thanks. Where’s the boys?”

“I’ll go see if they’re ready.” Sarah left Sam and Bucky in the kitchen.

“You sure you don’t want anything?” Bucky asked.

“Nah, I’m fine. How are you?” Sam asked. Bucky looked at him. They never made small talk.

“I’m alright. Why?”

“Just wondering where your head’s at. Excited to be a dad?” Sam asked, leaning on the wall.

“To be honest-” Bucky looked down the hallway to make sure no one would hear him. “It scares the shit out of me.” His admission made Sam laugh.

“So White Panther is scared of something: fatherhood.” Sam teased. “I bet you’ve been reading all the parenting books, right?”

“Did Sarah tell you?”

“Didn’t have to. Should have seen Dave when she was pregnant with Cass.” Sam laughed at the memory of his late brother-in-law.

“What was he like? He’s such a huge part of their lives, yet I know nothing about him other than the few times Sarah mentions him.”

“He adored them. Loved being a dad. Sarah was the love of his life. Has she made you watch Top Gun, yet?” Sam asked.

“No. I don’t think so.”

“You’ll be home all day without the boys. Ask her to show it to you.”

“Why? Was he in it or something?”

“No. It was his favorite movie. You’ll see when you watch it with her.” Sam told him.

“Watch what?” Sarah asked, walking into the Kitchen with AJ and Cass following,

“You haven’t made him watch Top Gun yet?” Sam asked.

“What’s that?” AJ asked.

“It was your dad’s favorite movie.” Sarah explained. “I haven’t gotten around to it. Not exactly a movie the boys can watch yet.”

“Fair enough, but you’ll be alone today. Just saying.” Sam told her. “What’s that for?” He motioned to Cass’ bookbag. “You going to school?”

“It’s my drawing stuff.” Cass replied.

“The artist never leaves home without his supplies.” Bucky teased. Cass rolled his eyes.

“I packed lunch and threw in some snacks and drinks.” Sarah explained, pushing the cooler towards Sam.

“That’s why you’re my favorite sister.” Sam grabbed the handle of the cooler.

“I’m your only sister.” Sarah replied.

“Exactly. We’ll be back at the dock once the sun starts to set. We’ll find something else to do and I’ll bring them back around seven.” Sam explained.

“Sounds good.” Sarah nodded. “Make sure they’re wearing their life jackets, Sam.”

“Yeah. If it’ll make you feel better, I’ll wear one too.” Sam teased. Sarah glared at him.

“Get out of my house.”

“Message received. I’ll see you later.” Sam left the kitchen with the cooler.

“Alright, you both better be good and listen to Sam. Especially when you’re on the boat. You hear me?” She asked.

“Okay. Bye, mom.” Cass walked outside.

“Bye, mom. Bye, Bucky.” AJ followed his brother to Sam’s truck. Sarah watched them through the screen door.

“They’re gonna have fun.” Bucky wrapped his arms around her.

“I know. They won’t stop talking about it for the next week.” Sarah laughed. “So Sam wants me to show you Top Gun. You’ve never seen it?”

“I guess it wasn’t important enough of a pop culture thing for Shuri or Ayo to show me back in Wakanda.” Bucky told her.

“I was planning on napping, but we can watch it. And we can watch the sequel. Dave would have loved that they made a sequel.” She smiled.

“Sequel came out after he passed?”

“The sequel came out almost forty years after the first one.” She explained.

“Why would they do that?”

“Who knows. Come on.” They walked to the living room.

Sam and the boys sat on the boat, eating the lunch Sarah had packed.

“Are you guys excited about having a new sibling?” Sam asked.

“I want a little brother.” AJ replied. Cass stayed quiet.

“What about you, Cass?” Sam took a bite of his sandwich. Cass shrugged.

“Cass doesn’t like Bucky.”

“Shut up!” Cass glared at his younger brother.

“Hey! That wasn’t cool.” Sam stopped it before it could continue. “What’s going on, Cass?”

“Nothing. I like Bucky, but I don’t want him to be my dad. That’s what I told mom.” Cass explained.

“Why not? We don’t have a dad.” AJ replied.

“We do have a dad!”

“Hey! No fighting on the boat, but Cass is right. You guys do have a dad. His name was David and he was a good man. A great one. He loved you guys and he loved your dad.”

“Why don’t I remember him?” AJ asked.

“Because you were small when he died.” Sam replied.

“How’d he die?” AJ asked.

“His plane was shot down. He was a pilot in the airforce.” Cass explained.

“How’d you know that?” Sam asked.

“Heard mom telling Bucky.”

“He was a hero.” Sam pulled his phone out. “I bet you’ve never seen these.” He handed his phone to Cass.

“That’s dad?”

“Yeah. That’s what he would wear when he had to fly. If you scroll far enough you’ll see his plane. His callsign was Checkmate.”

“What’s a callsign?” Cass asked.

“It’s like a nickname they give pilots in the military.” Sam explained.

“Did you have a callsign?” AJ asked.

“No. I wasn’t a pilot. I was a pararescue.” Sam explained.

“He jumped out of planes.” Cass explained.

“Yes, but it was more to it than that.” Sam chuckled, watching his nephews scroll through the photos.

“Why doesn’t mom talk about him that much?” AJ asked.

“Why don’t you ask her about him? I know she’d be happy to talk about him.” Sam replied. “I remember how excited he was to go home after one of his last deployments. He would always tell everyone about you guys. Kept pictures of both of you and your mom on him all the time.”

“Really?”

“Yeah. I bet you didn’t know he had a little brother.”

“He did?” Cas gave Sam back his phone.

“Yeah. That’s who you’re named after.”

“We have an uncle named Cass?” Cass asked, incredulously.

“He died when they were both kids.”

“How come you know so much?” AJ asked.

“Your dad and I were friends. Who do you think introduced him to your mom?” Sam asked. “When you get home, ask your mom the story of how she met him.”

“You tell us.”

“It’s funnier when your mom tells the story, I promise.” Sam smiled.

Sam and the boys returned to the house just before seven, as he said. Sam knocked on the door.

“We’re home.” He announced as Cass and AJ ran inside, excited to tell Sarah everything Sam told them about their dad. Sarah and Bucky had fallen asleep on the couch, cuddling. But Bucky being a light sleeper awoke when Sam’s truck pulled up.

“Hey guys.” Bucky kept his voice low. “Hey, doll, they’re back.” Bucky kissed Sarah, making her stir.

“Don’t do that. Not when I’m here.” The disgust in Sam’s voice made Bucky chuckle. “Come on, guys. Let’s give your mom a minute to wake up.” Sam put his hands on his nephews shoulders and ushered them to the kitchen. After a few moments, Sarah and Bucky joined them in the kitchen.

“Did you guys have a good day?” She asked.

“Yeah! Sam told us about dad!” AJ exclaimed. “Did you know his callsign was Checkmate?”

“Yeah. Ironically, he never knew how to play Chess.” Sarah laughed. “Did he tell you how much he used to make us laugh?”

“Yeah. He was a big jokester.” Sam smiled at the memories.

“Do you want to hear the story of the first time we met?” Sarah asked.

“Yes!” AJ replied.

“Sam said only you could tell the story.” Cass told her.

“I guess he’s right. Uh-” She laughed. “We were celebrating Sam’s birthday and the place we went happened to be a karaoke bar. None of us had any idea it was a karaoke bar, and I don’t think any of us wanted to do it. None of us, except your dad. He got this idea- something he’d seen in a movie.” She laughed. “So he signed up for karaoke. None of us knew what he was planning, only that he was going to sing. When he got up there and to the mic, he started singing this really old love song. And then he walked over to me and started singing to me. His singing was terrible.”

“The worst thing I ever heard.” Sam added.

“And yet at the end of the night we exchanged emails.” Sarah scoffed.

“Emails?” Cass questioned.

“It was the early 20s. Texting wasn’t as advanced as it is today. We had T9.” Sarah explained. “So it was easier to email.”

“What song did he sing?” AJ asked. As if on cue, Sam played “You’ve Lost That Loving Feeling” by The Righteous Brothers from his phone for a bit.

“Yup. That’s the night I met and fell in love with your dad.” Sarah explained. “Are you guys hungry? I can order pizza.”

“Nah. I fed them.”

“Okay. Go get ready for bed.”

“It’s so early.” Cass whined.

“I didn’t say you had to go to bed. Just to go get ready.” Sarah replied. Cass and AJ walked to their rooms. Sarah looked at Sam. “Thanks for taking them.”

“We had fun. Talked about Dave all day. I just wish he was here to see them.” Sam sighed.

“He’d be proud.” Sarah told him. She looked at Bucky, who kept quiet. “You okay?”

“I’m fine.”

“I know it’s weird we’re talking about Dave so much.”

“No. I like hearing about him. And I know Cass and AJ like hearing about him too. I have nothing but respect for him. Just wish I could have met him.” Bucky told her.

“I think you two would get along.” Sarah wrapped her arms around Bucky.

“Are you kidding me? You think the jokester and stone cold Steve Austin here would have gotten along?” Sam asked. “This guy didn’t crack a smile for the first three years I knew him.”

“That’s fair.” Bucky replied. “But you didn’t give me much to smile at. Not until you introduced me to this one.” He kissed Sarah’s head.

“I didn’t introduce you. You did that. I don’t want credit for any of this.” Sam motioned to them, making Sarah laugh.

“You’re going to have to get used to it when the baby comes.” She told him.

“I’ll never be used to that.” Sam replied. “But I am exhausted. Those two- I understand why you’re always so tired.”

“I bet. Have a goodnight, Sam. And thanks again.”

“Anytime. Goodnight.” Sam left the house. Sarah took a deep breath.

“I’m ready to go back to sleep.”

“Then go to bed. I can handle the guys for the next-” Bucky checked his watch. “Yeah, I can handle them until ten.”

“I appreciate it, but no. Not this time.” She told him. “But it’s the thought that counts.” She kissed him.

[nerdkiller]

do you have any khanpella (or just pathologic in general) fanfiction reccomendations?

yes I do :)) Basically in the order of when I read them. All are rated gen or teen+. My comments might get spoiler-y but I try to stay unspecific. All of these are post-canon. Thank you for asking anon!!

1. we do not dream of the future (we must keep living) by  arysthaeniru 

“Khan and Capella are called to protect the first blossoming changes to the Town-on-Gorkhon, and rise to the challenge, as always, together.“

This one is one of my favorites and I’ve read it over plenty of times. I love Khan’s loneliness, his feelings about growing up between the new order of his sister and Capella, and just the subdued state of their relationship is really moody and interesting. Also poses an interesting mode of thinking: what would Capella be like once she’s a Mistress? How would they negotiate that with their romantic relationship? 

+Basically any Patho fic by this author is good!

2. what do you know? i'm just a bad believer by ghostlyeris 

“Notkin once asked him how he could tell the difference, three drinks into their routine. Every word fell flat as he tried to explain. There was just a difference between Victoria Olgimskaya Jr.—a woman trying desperately to live up to the lofty shadow her mother had cast, all while taking over for both her father and brother—and Capella, who wanted to be a child just a little bit longer. The same way there was a difference between Khan—former leader of the Dogheads now enforcing the law of the town—and Kaspar, balancing on the edge of adolescence and adulthood as long as he could. 

—What happens when you put two children in charge of rebuilding an entire culture from the edge of ruin? Nothing good for their health.”

Inspired by the 1st, another timeskip fic that follows the same idea of Capella being different to the White Mistress, and she and Khan negotiating that. Another nice, moody piece where they struggle to fulfill the roles they put on themselves in the Town. 

3. now i'm someone else by courierseis 

“a quiet moment in the new kain estate. khan tries to do something nice, but it doesn't go quite right.”

This one’s just short and cute, and I love it a ton. It’s post-canon but more pre-relationship. I like the focus on Capella’s POV and how it explores the tension and agreement to start being allies instead of enemies from her angle, and the vulnerability that requires from her.

4. Patholoveathon 2020, Ch. 2: My Will, Not All the World by ERNest 

“Aiming rocks at bottles, they hit on the truth.”

This one is a microsecond but I like the play of Victor’s quote about Khan/Capella, the playfulness, and how they’re already discussing power and how their families have influenced them in the relationship even in such a childish context. IDK it really suits them.

5. Ephemera by  SquirrellyThief (rating: Gen)

“Ephemera /əˈfem(ə)rə/ noun: something of no lasting significance. Capella and Khan wait out a storm with no one but each other for company. (Set after the Diurnal Ending for Patho 2)“

Hi @squirrellythief I’m gonna expound upon my love for this:

I love this one for being, like that one commenter said, a sort of Marble Nest for Capella (which feels confirmed by the ending). It being from Capella’s POV lets it show all her self-doubts and fears, which she has a lot of! Addressing the loss of the Town’s kids, and her issues with vulnerability around Khan when he just seems so ready to throw everything away for her is wonderful, and it’s nice to see how they try to comfort each other, and the asymmetry between how Khan feels about Capella and vice versa. And how Capella figures out through a future vision how Khan might actually feel about her in the present... There’s something very beautiful about that... very Arrival 2016 about that... 

[ryqoshay]

Tri-Arame - Side Story: Kanata's Plight

Primary Trio Pairing?: EmmaKanaKarin? Rating: G Words: 587 Fandom: Love Live Nijigasaki Parent Fic: Tri-Arame Time Frame: Sometime early in college Event: Promptober 2022 Event Source: Idol Fanfic Heaven channel on Discord Prompt: Unintentional

---------

Author’s Note: Bonus 2nd entry for Oct 20th

Summary: Kanata thinks back on some stuff

---------

She hadn’t meant to do it. It was completely unintentional. So much so, that she still couldn’t figure out what she had done wrong.

Perhaps it hadn’t been one single thing, but years of little things.

Whatever the case, the line had been crossed, last straw had been dropped, the camel’s back had broken. And Kanata’s heart had shattered along with it.

Kanata trudged home, silently reviewing what had transpired in the last… geez, she didn’t even know how long.

Karin had approached her on her way to the dormitory complex where she and Emma had moved upon graduating high school and starting college. Or sort of. Emma was only taking a partial load so she could begin as a professional idol with a production company that allowed her to work around her class schedule while Karin had started taking a few online classes. Kanata was the only one of the three who was actually going full time to college and was still living with her mother and sister. But none of that was really important.

Karin had been upset and started accusing Kanata of trying to steal Emma away from her. Nothing could have been further from the truth, and Kanata had tried to explain as such, but Karin was having none of it. After far too long of not allowing Kanata to get a word in edgewise, Karin finally told her to stay away from Emma. And from her. Both of them.

Shocked into speechlessness, Kanata had merely nodded numbly. And walked away.

But when had it actually happened? When had Kanata fallen in love with her two best friends?

When had Emma gone from her favorite lap pillow to someone she couldn’t live without? When had Karin gone from one of her favorite teasing targets to being so important and irreplaceable in her life?

Had it been after graduation? Perhaps. The three third years had become quite close as the school idol club reformed. And even after welcoming Mia into the group, the original third years retained a different bond. A bond that Kanata had assumed had only strengthened after they gradutated and started spending less time with the others and more just among themselves.

All that time, Kanata was keenly aware that Emma treasured Karin, but seemed to be falling for her as well. Karin was a bit harder to read, except when it came to Emma of course, but Kanata couldn’t help notice the aloof detached aura Karin so often held up had completely disappeared around her.

Had Karin started having feelings for her as well? Were the three on the road to becoming a romantic trio like Setsuna, Ayumu and Yuu so clearly were as well?

No.

Very much no. Karin had just made that abundantly clear.

“Onee-ch… an?” Haruka’s usual cheerful greeting flipped on its head with concern. “I thought you were having dinner with Emma and Karin tonight?”

“Plans changed.” Kanata said solemnly.

“Are… are you alright, Onee-chan?”

“I’m fine.”

“I was just about to make dinner, so I can make some for you as well?”

“Thanks, but I’m not really all that hungry. I think I’ll just head to bed.”

“Uhm, alright. I’ll leave something in the fridge for you in case you change your mind.”

“Thank you.”

And with that Kanata headed to their room, climbed into the bottom bunk and collapsed. She hadn’t bothered to change into her pajamas and just pulled the covers over herself.

Finally, in a few moments of presumed privacy, Kanata cried.

---------

Author’s Note Continued: I’m so sorry, Kanata...

This one made a bit of a splash on Discord, despite being a bonus entry that needed to be posted in a different channel.

***Spoilers*** for those unfamiliar with TA: This is the first I’ve written of an arc I have had planned for quite a while. I want the third year trio to go through some things so they can give some advice to YuuAyuSetsu later. That said, I’m pretty sure I’ve at least mentioned that EmmaKanaKarin is going strong later in TA’s timeline. ... I know I wrote at least one IFH event entry for them, but I’d have to check to see if I’ve done so in TA proper.

[valleyrunearchives]

Weightless (The Leap of a Jade Rabbit)

Rating: Teen and Up Audiences Fandom: Boku No Hero Academia/My Hero Academia Pairings: Aizawa Shouta/Yamada Hizashi Warnings: Graphic Depictions of Violence

Chapter 30/?

Midoriya Izuku stopped believing in heroes when a tragedy occurred in his life. When at the tender age of 11, he lost everything that was everything dear to him, everything that was worth living for. Yet he doesn’t give up. He can’t give up. He decides to make a choice instead. No longer will he stand around and wait for the heroes to arrive while a crime goes down. He’ll be his own hero and a hero to those who are just like him. Those waiting for help that will never arrive. In order to do that, though, he’ll have to fight to survive and lie through his teeth. It won’t be so bad!

After all, it’s not like they can bring him in for vigilantism and Illegal Quirk Usage when he doesn’t even have a quirk, right?

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Click here to Read on AO3!

Izuku can admit that this isn't a good idea. He tried to fight off the urge for as long as he could. He tried to be good but ultimately he failed. Which is how he finds himself donning his Gyokuto hoodie and mask late into Thursday night.

It had been a fairly stressful day, with Shouta and Hizashi telling him that they would be going to UA high tomorrow so Nedzu, the principal (he’s going to meet the principal of UA…!), can give him an aptitude test to see where he is in terms of school. They'll then be looking into nearby schooling options after that to see where he can attend that will meet his academic needs. Finally, a meal will be occurring between the three of them, Shouta and Hizashi’s friends Nemuri and Tensei, and Tensei's younger brother. He's fairly certain Tensei is a pro hero like Hizashi, he just hasn't figured out which one. 

Point is he's stressing the fuck out and he needs to not be doing that anymore. So he's doing the best thing he knows how to do to release stress; going out to beat bad people black and blue. 

He hasn’t heard any sounds from the house in about an hour. So he’s fairly sure that Hizashi and Shouta both are sound asleep. Good. That makes it easier for him to get out and in the house undetected. How long should he be gone for? He sets an alarm on his new phone for three hours from now. That should be enough time to stop a good bit of crime. 

With that done, he carefully opens the window and slips out. He lets out a happy sigh when his feet touch the ground. He squeaks as a throat clears behind him. He looks over his shoulder to see Shouta in a t-shirt and sweatpants standing behind him with his arms crossed. He curses quietly under his breath.

“What do you think you’re doing?” the older man asks him.

“Uh… Walk? I’m walking? OUT for a walk?” he replies hesitantly.

A dark brow raises, “You wanna try that again?”

“... I’m anxious,” Izuku admits.

“So you decided to go for a ‘walk?’” 

“Yes?”

Shouta reaches up to pinch the bridge of his nose with a disappointed sigh. Oh no that’s worse than anger! “Kid,” Shouta starts, causing Izuku to tense, “If you wanted to go out as Gyokuto, you should’ve just asked me.”

“Wait… You’d… just let me go do vigilante work? If I asked?!” The boy’s voice is incredulous. It certainly can’t be that easy! Right?

“Yes. I have a condition though. I have to come with you.”

“Why?” Izuku asks, confused. 

“If I come with you, you’re officially marked as an Underground hero’s intern. You won’t get in trouble and no other heroes you meet will be able to try and take you in for vigilantism.”

“Because I’m working with a hero to learn and therefore not a vigilante! Genius! What about Hizashi though? Will he be okay?” 

Shouta waves him off, “Hizashi’s out like a light. I’ve left him a note in case he wakes up but he’s a deep sleeper so we’ll more than likely be back before he wakes.” 

“So we can really go?” Izuku bounces on his feet excitedly, “Like, now-ish?”

“Yeah, yeah. Just give me like five minutes to change and get my gear.” 

Izuku resists the urge to cheer. Mostly because it’s almost one in the morning and he’d rather not wake up the neighbors. It’d be terribly rude! Shouta returns inside via his and Hizashi’s bedroom window. Izuku waits patiently for him outside. Not long later, Shouta comes back out the same way he went in; Now fully dressed with his utility belt and capture scarf also on. 

“Come on, kid,” Shouta says to him, shoving his hands in his pockets before beginning to lead, “I’ll show you the route I normally take whenever I can’t sleep.” 

“So you come out and patrol your own neighborhood whenever you’re having trouble sleeping?” Izuku asks him as he moves to catch up. 

“Yep. Neighbors certainly don’t mind the extra pair of eyes around these streets and I get to get out of my own head for a while. Keep up. We’ll do about two or three laps around before heading in. We stay pretty quiet around here so I doubt we’ll find anything but we’ll just have to see what’s around.” 

Izuku supposes that makes sense. He can imagine the stuff Shouta sees as an undergrounder must be pretty rough sometimes. His sleep schedule must be awful too considering that he patrols most nights and also teaches during the weekdays. He doesn’t ask him any more questions and, instead, just follows him quietly as he climbs to the top of a nearby apartment building. He and Izuku then move to the end of the roof and peer over the edge into the nearby alleyways. When it comes up empty, Shouta and Izuku rooftop jump to another nearby building. 

Each check they do comes up empty. Izuku tries not to pout. Shouta did say that it was pretty quiet in their neighborhood. He supposes he should just be happy that he was able to do this. That Shouta was willing to let him patrol the neighborhood with him to help calm his frazzled mind. He is much more relaxed now. He supposes he just needed to not be cooped up in the house any more. 

When they get to the last stop on Shouta’s quick route of the neighborhood, after a quick check to make sure it’s clear, the man turns to him, “Sorry kiddo. No criminals to apprehend tonight. Ready to head back now?”

“Yeah. I’ve relaxed now. Thanks again, Shouta.” 

“Sure. Let’s go then. The sooner we get back, the sooner we get to nap a bit before Hizashi’s excitable wake up call in a few hours.” 

“He’s… He’s not actually going to give us a wakeup call is he?”

“With. Singing,” Shouta threatens. 

Izuku groans out in frustration. That sounds very not fun. Oh well. He doesn’t think he’d have it any other way. He guesses. The return to the house with little fanfare. They see no one on the way home and easily slip back into the window of Izuku’s bedroom. Izuku’s not sure why Shouta uses his window and not his and Hizashi. Shouta turns his back to him as Izuku changes back into his pajamas - They’re so warm and so cozy. So much cozier than just wearing clothes to bed. When Izuku crawls back under the covers, Shouta appears at his side, gently tucking him in just like Hizashi did earlier tonight. “Hope you don’t mind but I’m not one for goodnight kisses. Even my husband has to demand them from me,” he jokes. 

“That’s okay. Thanks for tucking me in, Shouta. And taking me out on patrol. I feel much better now,” he replies tiredly.

“Good to hear. Now get some sleep, Problem Child.”

Izuku hums in understanding and snuggles down deeper into the blankets. Shouta doesn’t leave immediately, just watches him as he starts to fall asleep. He’s just drifting off fully when he feels something press against his forehead. He forces his nearly closed eyes to focus just enough to see Shouta moving to lean back up. The older man whispers a soft goodnight. Izuku smiles slightly. ‘Not one for goodnight kisses,’ his ass!

[christmic]

Starts with: Gregorian Chants

When the prompts trickle in too slow for the rain to stop

Ends with:

Nurture a Covenant with God

When the prompts trickle in too slow for the rain to stop. The rain has been on again, off again. So I’m only allowing myself evenings for this whole exercise but did a morning one and now that night came need to go again real quick before more sight reading. Feels like I’m in trade school, the pressure is high to learn a bunch of piano books so that the students never catch up to me. And some of them could soon. Sight reading is so different from every other piano skill, it’s like I’ve spent weeks and am still not confident and a beginner. I can do it in my head but my fingers don’t cooperate. And then my fingers can do it easily but my eyes see blurred smudges on lines. Shoulda coulda woulda learned earlier. Shoulda could woulda never stared at the Sun. So today got a call from boss, thinking I was in trouble. No, you just have to learn We Are the Champions on guitar for band tonight. What a life! What a job! I love it.

So PDP and I are headed to an island for three days to camp. So I’m posting here for the lurkers as the only way to know I went missing. It’s cool the boat comes about every three days weather permitting so hopefully we get stuck out there for 40 days and 40 nights! My night vision binoculars record video and make everything look like a UFO. I have walkie talkies, a bible, a hammock, a recorder, and a guitar. I’m not sure if PDP will be able to make it sober, the vibe is he’s in the same boat but without the knock and is struggling with substances. His current life trajectory is his wife will leave him as soon as the kids are old enough and he’ll trade happiness for binging with the vets at Legion playing darts with Michelle. But destiny is not written in stone, the man can rise above and change his life plan. He shouts about how he’s all about truth but the hair trigger anger in his heart prevents the truth to be uttered by those closest to him. Yes there are extremely nefarious forces winning battle after battle in the world. Yes the dominant population is completely oblivious and on a local level participating in turning the world into a more evil place. But my favorite Bill Cooper quote again, and why he’s the top cheese in my burrito is “If you want to know what’s wrong with your country all you have to do is take one long hard look in the mirror”.

I like to do little checkins with The Lord throughout the day for figuring out what to do next. And the Lord is saying open the fields, what a friendship is could be more. You know my door is always open. You stubborn cat. Jesus. At this rate though the thought of a 10 year younger woman that puts the Lord first seems to be a trend out here. Though that doesn’t qualify as a carrot on the stick for the harder parts of my routine. Like this rabid 6 year old I have to teach for a whole hour but he’s Keith Moon + Jon Bonham + Jim Morrison on a bender trapped in a 6 year old’s body. Today I had to ask him who the teacher was because he was trying to tell me what to play. We have to jump to drums to piano to guitar to producing beats depending on the moment. Aha. It’s fun though it’s just hard to teach a 6 year old anything and the parents are the coolest they just like him getting exposed to stuff and are putting zero pressure on him.

Let’s not ban talking about ChatGPT but word in the sauna from my fav lifeguard Dioni is that the optimal swim is about 800-1000 yards, which is my SWEET spot thank God. Cause I’ve only been doing 500 like a bitch. but I was thinking I’m supposed to get up to 4 or 5k a day like when I was on the swim team. Just got to get 300 more in then focus on form and getting faster. Soul Fusion’s full of the most dedicated or frustrated moms who could kick my ass and over my head at the same time. Full volume club tunes and is hard AF. My sister’s has become the cool house where all the cool mom’s go. I tell them often I can’t wait to be a stay at home mom like them. You’ll think you’re having a heart attack at times. In Soul Fusion, that is. Fun stuff! S is preggers with her second and has blueberry bushes that haven’t needed water from the rain and are huge already. I’m going to steal her method once my greenhouse is built. I remember in the bible about if a tree yields no fruit, then cut it down. When was the last time she yielded fruit? Let me check in with the Lord. ‘Tone it down christMic’ okay. Recently when I nutted in her and refused to get plan b because she’s vaxxed and therefore infertile. Demon’s will do anything to feel right, and I’m genuinely sorry. What's recent is sometimes a long, long time ago.

Also I invented a new genre of music, instead of Bluegrass its called Greengrass and it sounds really awesome. It’s like Bluegrass instruments but all the songs are happy and uplifting, but not in an ignorant youthful way. Like Chad’s old lyrics from high school Bonjo and I would be in tears laughing singing them. They were so naive and innocent; stuff like ‘you and me we’re gonna make three and be happy’… You’d love to hear Greengrass sometime. I would too.

I shouldn’t talk about the bible without giving actual scripture because I have yet to read the entire thing.

Also why is Hotel California so popular? Because you can check in anytime you like, but you can never leave. Why is Stairway to heaven so popular? Because there’s a lady whose sure, all that glitters is gold. Please make these prompts one day.

I met Lightening Joe’s wife today and after getting picks and a tuner she took me upstairs to show me the studios and a dope graffiti bathroom her husband made. A living legend. But there was a social pho pa because I asked if I could take a picture of the 10 rock commandments painted on the wall and she said sure, her dad was really religious and wanted to take a picture of them too. I told her I’m really religious too and well was led back out on the pavement before I could say Love Everyone. I wish I told her I knew where she’s coming from about her silent obscure scars from religious family/people. I wish I told her I don’t like the word in the first place. But anyways that’s what happens, it’s funny how religious people have a worse rap than hobos in many nice parts of the country. And I understand how they feel. Now I’m scheduled to play keys for 1 rehearsal before the Easter service - probably on that $4k Nord I’d never be able to afford. That’s like 4 Siennas. It’s one of those churches where everything is top of the line, like the drum set has it’s own plastic room and everyone has fenders and ear peaces for levels and stuff. Fancy fancy, and I’m so blessed to be a part of it. The music is easy and you cannot deny how the holy spirit fills the room when we sing. The only number I feel a little hesitant about - and sad it’s one of their flagship songs and it goes something like “What can make me whole again? Nothing but the blood of Jesus” and the way it’s repeated and sounds it sounds like the whole group is saying they enjoy drinking Jesus’s blood in order to feel whole in like a kinda a dark and satanic way. But I’m sure there’s no one at church I can tell this too. Maybe the tongues dino’d understand, she’s seen some shit. Also the organizer wants me to download a scheduler app and I don’t have the heart to tell the fifth fellow Christian this month that I don’t use iOS or Android. It’s lonely at the top. JK Jesus is here in my heart and I’m all bottom of the creek with the salamanders anyways.

But I’m on island time soon in order to really focus on Nurturing a Covenant with God.